Ships in the Night
by T. Fowler
Summary: Meg, a social worker, unintentionally becomes entangled with both Rorschach and Adrian Veidt. Rorschach/OC Pre-book/movie
1. Chapter 1

_Rorschach's journal – April 14, 1985_

_The night is heavy. Stinks – cigarettes, perfumes. Smell of sex and sin everywhere. On street corners stand whores, calling out for their victims. Criminals slink into bars, do their drugs. Come back out to go home to wives and children, whom they rape and beat. Not in that order, not all the time. _

_A whore grabs my arm as I pass. Push her off, into the street. Shouts obscenities at me as I walk away. Wish I could peel off my skin and stand, bleeding, washed by rain. Maybe, then something in this city might be clean._

_Hear sounds of struggle in an alley. Fists, feet, bloody flesh. Will go investigate._

He enters the alley, fists ready, eyes open. At the far end from the street, a dead end. A huge hulk of a man looms over his victim: small, slight figure of indeterminate gender. Small, short hair covered by a hat. Fighting back, but losing. As he approaches, the figure's hand shoots up. Catches the attacker in the crotch.

The attacker howls. His heavy, booted foot smashes onto the victim's ankle.

The crack is loud against the bricks of the alley. The kid screams. Falls limply back against the wall. His face is milk white under the yellow lights and the purpling bruises.

Rorschach attacks. Has a rope. Wraps it around the guy's neck. Yanks him back from the kid. Twists.

Attacker lunges. Fists connects. Rorschach stumbles. Catches himself. Drives his elbow into the attacker's nose. Feels it crunch. Then his ribs. One. Two. The attacker staggers from side to side, weaving drunkenly. Rorschach gets his wrist. Twists. Bone snap. Fingers break. Twists again. Loud howl. Knee to the face. Grabs his head. Twists.

Justice is served.

The attacker, now dead, lays in a puddle of cooling blood. The victim is awake, looking at Rorschach through wide eyes. He still can't tell if it's a boy or girl. Didn't matter. Victim incidental to the scene.

He turns and begins walking away.

"Wait!"

A girl. Looks about sixteen or seventeen if it was boy. Voice is way too high. Female, then.

He keeps walking.

"Hey, wait! Please."

Ignores it.

Something hits him in the back.

Rorschach turns.

Girl is standing on one foot, supporting herself against the wall. The broken foot is off the ground, ankle height. She'd thrown her hat. The face revealed underneath is not pretty. Mouth too wide, crooked. Hair short, unremarkable brown. Body thin, boyish. Clothes, second hand: button down shirt, slacks, boots. Professional, but not business.

Her fingers are bloody, scraped. Digging into the wall to keep her balance. "Aren't you going to help me get somewhere safe? Call the cops?"

"No."

She blinks. Shocked. "But… you saved me."

"Didn't save you. Stopped him. Different."

Dazed comprehension flashes across her face. She looks down at her attacker, then back at him. "Oh. Well. Can I have my hat back?"

He hesitates. This is not what he does. He stops criminals and leaves. People he saves doesn't ask anything of him. Of course, most of the time, they either cowered or cursed him. Didn't engage him. Didn't make requests.

He picks up the hat. Walks it back.

"Thanks." She smiles tentatively. Trembles from cold or fear or adrenaline. "Please. I can't make back out to the street, not on this ankle."

"Crawl."

She grabs his coat before he turns away. "I'll just be a sitting duck. I mean, before I was at least sort of able to hold my own. But now? I'm not. And in the time it takes me to crawl from here back to the street and to the phone, who knows who else is going to find me? What they'll do to me? And then, either you'll have to come back and stop them again, or you'll have failed to stop another criminal from doing damage. And, besides, really, you owe me."

"I owe you?"

"Yeah." She nods so vigorously, her hat falls over her eyes. "Without people like me, there'd be no people like him. And, without him, where would you be? Happy? Content? Probably not. And, you want to stop them. But not give them more opportunities to hurt, right? I mean, if it came down to it, you'd rather just hurt them without people like me getting in the way. Getting hurt. But, here I am. And there'll be more. Just making more work for you. So, anyway you cut it, it's in your best interest to help me to a phone. You know. Either as a thank you or… or to make less work for you in the long run." The girl stops. Rubs her eyes. Tears form at the corners, fall, mixing with blood from scrapes. "Please?"

He looks at her. Watches her looking back at him, unflinching. Scared and trembling, but not of him. Talking to him, her face bruised, blood in the corner of her mouth. Beaten but still fighting.

She still has a grip on his coat.

He starts to turn away. Then stops. Lifts his arm, elbow out.

Her too-big mouth split into a too-big smile. Crooked teeth, blood staining them. "Thanks. "

_Rorschach's journal, April 14, 1985_

_Didn't help her because she asked. Helped her to shut her up. Besides. Already going that way. _

_Walked her out of the alley to a phone outside Gunga Diner. Left her to make her call. She thanked me before I left. Never had that before._

_Went to roof, in shadows. Watched until police came. The ambulance. Police smirked behind her back, after she was taken away. Who'd attack ugly thing like her? they ask. Must have been for money. Someone must have been desperate, since she's obviously too poor to have much. _

_They won't look too hard for who did this. Good thing justice already served. It will never come from the likes of them._

_* * * _

_Rorschach's journal, April 15, 1985_

_Landlady shouted at me as I left today. Demanded rent. Complained about hygiene. Eight months pregnant with one just walking. And she calls me an animal._

_Stood out on the street, watching the world. Can't decide if it looks better or worse in the light of day. The night brings out the vermin. They all wear disguises in the day. _

_Just like me._

Meg carefully makes her way down the street on her crutches. They're a pain in the butt and she's already tired, but there's nothing else to do. She only lives ten blocks from work; it's easiest to walk. Even like this. And she can't call in sick after having started only a week ago.

She refuses to.

Someone bumps into her. Meg stumbles. Loses her balance. Falls, crashing into someone.

"Sorry," she gasps, gripping an arm.

The man she's fallen into jerks away from her. At the same time, his hand wraps around her crutch. They fall, together, in a fallen heap on the sidewalk.

Meg drops her crutches. Pushes herself up. "I'm so sorry… sir," she finishes awkwardly.

The man beneath her is disheveled. Dirty. He smells of stale sweat, dirt, and sour cologne. His red hair is matted and unwashed. His face is riddled with stubble and crumbs.

"Not your fault," he says. He pushes himself to his feet. Picks up a sign that has fallen next to them.

"Still. I fell so clumsy on these things." Meg grabs her crutches. With a little struggle, she manages to get back to her feet. She's winded when she does, so she leans against her crutches to catch her breath. "You okay?"

He looks at her without blinking. There's no expression on her face.

Schizophrenic, she thinks, or perhaps some other personality disorder.

He finally speaks. "Fine." He glances down at her ankle. "Broken?"

"Yeah." She blushes and rolls her eyes. "I was jumped last night by some thug. Some guy who just wanted to feel big and strong picking on someone weaker. Broke my ankle, which is just great." Her eyes flick up to his sign. "Then end is coming, huh? Think it will happen today?"

"Maybe."

"I hope not. There's so much to do. So much to fix. The world's a mess, and if it ended before we got our act together, it feel like a failure."

"Human race is a failure."

She shrugs. "Some days I agree. I'm hoping today won't be one of those days." She looks at her watch. "I should get to work. I'm Meg, by the way."

He says nothing.

"Well. Anyway. Sorry for bumping into you. I'll see you around. Bye." She smiles brightly at him, then turns and walks away. She can feel him watching as she hobbles down the street and wonders what he's thinking. How many people bother to stop to talk to him during the day. Too many people just passed the homeless or mentally unbalanced by, pretending they didn't exist. Pretending they weren't human.

Most of her work revolved around children. She was a social worker and was responsible for getting kids out of unsafe homes or making the homes they were in safer. Helping parents learn to deal with parenting and facing them in court if they were failing.

But, on occasion, she found herself working with adults. Back home, she used to volunteer at a soup kitchen and shelter. She'd talked to the men and women who'd used the services, listened to their stories. Got to know them. And made a vow to herself to treat everyone, no matter how rich or how poor, with the respect they deserved and then some. People with money rarely had to be reminded they were human beings. Children and those society looked down upon did. And Meg would do that reminding until the day she died.

_Rorschach's Journal, April 15, 1985_

_Ran into girl from the alley. She ran into me. Started talking to me after knocked me down. Almost thought she recognized me without my face, but was wrong. Works at Department of Social Services. Probably a soft-hear intellectual liberal whore. Not worth any time._

Between paperwork and phone calls and more paperwork, Meg doesn't get out of the office until nearly eight that night. Right when she thinks she's getting to leave, there's an emergency with a child that requires her attention. For hours, she listens to a nine year old child explain how his father had spent forty-five minutes beating him, then locked him in a closet to take a break, before resuming. He'd managed to go five days without anyone finding out before showing his best friend the injuries.

By the time they get the mother into custody and the child sent home with his mother, Meg feels ready to tear the esophagus out of the next person she sees.

"You sure you don't want a ride?" Alexi, her coworker, asks.

Meg shakes her head. "I need to walk. You know. I'm all… arrg. Need the exercise."

Alexi shakes her head. "I can't believe you're just going back out there with a broken ankle that you got yesterday. Are you crazy?"

She has to fight the urge to punch Alexi, who, really, is a nice woman. Just annoying at this moment. "Pretty much. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Night."

It's a mild night, good for walking. Even though she's exhausted and her ankle hurts, the air feels good on her face. Besides. The more she tires herself out, the better she'll be able to sleep. She doesn't want to spend the night, staring at the ceiling, remembering the attack.

She's at a light, waiting for traffic to ease, when a wave of fury washes over her. That poor kid. He was so small and so skinny and his father had just… just…

"Dammit!" she screams, not caring who hears. She slams one of her crutches into the light post. Did it again, feeling the shock reverberate up her arm. Again and again and again.

"Post attacking you now?"

Meg whirls, heart in her throat.

The masked man from last night stands behind her, hands in his pocket. The dark spots on his mask move slowly around his face, hypnotizing.

She manages a smile. "I've think I got this one."

He nods. When the light turns green, he follows her across.

"It's all fucked up, you know?" Meg can't help saying. "The whole system. It's sick. There's this little boy whose father seems to think is a punching dummy. And I can fight and argue all I want that the kid needs to be somewhere else, but there are rules and procedures. The father's in jail, tonight. Tomorrow, he makes bail. He stays in a hotel for a week or two, gets sent to some bullshit parenting and anger management classes. And then, he just gets to go home. File stamped and over with. Until a few months from now when he does it again. And there's nothing I can do." Angry, she dashes a tear from her eye.

The man besides her says nothing. He's just a presence at her side, maybe keeping the predators away, maybe a predator himself.

"You're Rorschach, right?"

"What gave it away?"

She smiles. "You're wanted by the police. Two murders. I bet there's a lot of others they don't know about. I mean, you killed the guy last night."

"Justice must be served. They must pay."

"Who?"

"Everyone."

Meg nods. There's nothing to say to that.

They walk in silence the remaining blocks. She doesn't know if he's protecting purposefully or not. Nor does she care. She doesn't feel threatened by him, and nothing in all the stories she's ever read about him in the paper indicates that he attacks unarmed women. Injured women. Especially injured women he'd saved the night before.

"This is me," she says, stopping outside her apartment building. She looks up at her window and points. "Third floor. No elevator." She lets out a heavy sigh. "My ankle is already complaining." Then, Meg smiles at Rorschach. "Thanks for walking me home."

He steps back, hands up, like he's startled.

"Night." She turns and walks into her building.

Two days later, when she wakes, there's a small newspaper article on her nightstand. The police have found a body of a man recently arrested for brutally beating his child. Over the text of the article as a scrawl of something like a Rorschach blot.

Meg smiles as she settles back against her pillows. Reads the article, then presses it against her heart.

Justice was served.

_Meg's Journal, May 12, 1985_

_It's been month since I was hired to work for New York Social Services and moved out here. Almost a month since I was attacked on the streets. I still don't know why I was attacked. I don't have money. He didn't seem to want to rape me, but, then, he didn't say much when he dragged me into the alley and started wailing on me._

_Every morning, I walk past the man on the street with his board proclaiming the end of the world is coming. I stop and talk with him. He doesn't say, but I can tell he thinks my quest to help make the world a better place is fruitless. Mankind is too debase, too sinful, too violent to ever get its act together. He might be right. But, just like he has to stand out on the street warning people, I have to go to work and do what I can to protect the children and get adults to a better place in life._

_To get them to start taking some fucking responsibility for themselves. _

_Maybe welfare and food stamps isn't the best way to deal with them all, but, right now, it's the best we've got. During my lunch out, I go to the park with two sandwiches. One for me, one for a woman old enough to be my mother. Her name is Terri. She used to be a secretary. She used to be a wife. She used to be a lot of things until her husband left her and she got fired and then had a mental breakdown. We eat lunch and talk. She's come a long way since her breakdown, but is having trouble finding work. I keep trying to get her to take advantage of the services we offer, but she won't._

_I rarely see Rorschach these days. Every so often, he drops from the shadows when someone gets too near me with the obvious intent to take advantage of the fact I'm handicapped. The crutches make good weapons, but they also make me off balanced and clumsy. Good thing I'm almost done with them._

_Almost every morning I wake up to another newspaper article or note on my nightstand. The criminals the police can't or won't deal are found, dead or near enough. Sometimes, there's no article. Just a note: _rapist, 1, justice_ or something similar, and his symbol. He seems to concentrate on child murderers and pedophiles. At least, those are the ones he tells me about. _

_I shouldn't take comfort. Vigilantism is wrong. It's illegal. Rorschach is probably psychopath. A paranoid schizophrenic with delusions of grandeur. But, sometimes, it feels as if he's the only other person in the world who understands. _

"I don't want to go," Meg says. She stares at the file in front of her, trying to remember what she was writing.

"Meg, come on. You've been here two months and you haven't gone on one date. You never go out. You're finally off your crutches, so you can't use that as an excuse anymore. You're married to your job, and that's not healthy," Alexi says. "Come on. He's a great guy."

"I'm not interested in dating." The words come to her and she makes a note in the file.

"I've already told him all about you. He wants to meet you."

"That's too bad."

"Meg, come on." There's a no nonsense tone in Alexi's voice. It's laced with a thread of anger.

Meg licks her lips. Looks up. "I'm not… comfortable with dating. Never have been."

"Don't you want to get married? Have kids?"

She shrugs. "Don't know. Not something I think about."

Alexi rolls her eyes. Sits in a chair next to her. "Well. At the very least you could get laid. I mean, come on. How long has it been since you've had sex?"

"Alexi!" Meg exclaims, blushing furiously. She squirms in her chair. "This is really inappropriate. We're at work."

The other woman just shrugs and waves her hand. "No one's around. Come on. You're not a prude, right?"

Meg shrugs again. "I just… Look, just tell the guy thanks, but I'm not interested."

"But you have to go. I've already set everything up, and he's bringing his friend. You know, the one I told you about from the gym? Hot, blond, muscular. I just want to sink my teeth into his ass." Her eyes become unfocused. Dreamy. Then they sharpen on Meg. "I need you there. And I'm not taking no for an answer."

Which is how Meg finds herself that night as restaurant with Alexi. Who'd forced her into a dress that made her look ridiculous and feel completely uncomfortable. And make-up, although Meg had just allowed lipstick and blush.

The man Alexi set her up with, Mark, is nice. He's handsome in an understated way, in good shape, and doesn't seem too disappointed when he firsts meets her. She knows she's not the most attractive woman in the world, and that, when it comes down to it, she looks like a boy in a dress. She's exactly the kind of person that others set up on blind dates because, with her looks, she'll never get any on her own without effort.

The trouble is, she doesn't want to put any effort in. She doesn't like dating, isn't interested in getting married, and is turned off by the idea of sex. But try explaining that to normal people.

Alex abandons her at the end of the night. She and her date go off together, hands already all over each other.

"I'll take you home," Mark offers valiantly. When she tries to refuse, he insists and gets her a cab. And gets inside the cab with her.

"I had a nice time tonight," he says once they are outside her building.

Meg smiles tentatively up at him, unsure what to say. She had a miserable time, nice though he was. But it wasn't nice to say that, so she merely says, "Me, too. Thanks for dinner." She turns to go inside, but he takes her arm.

She freezes, trying not to shudder at the touch. She hates being touched.

"I'd like to see you again. Are you free tomorrow night?"

Meg looks at him. Gapes, closes her mouth. Opens it again. "I, um. Um."

And then he's leaning in. Mouth close.

Meg jerks away. Her head slams against the door jamb. The world swims around her.

"Meg? Are you okay?" He crowds closer to her.

Desperate, she pushes at him. Tries to get him to move away. Give her air.

He misinterprets it. Wraps his arms around her. Kisses her, thick slug of a tongue pushing inside her mouth. Coffee-and-garlic breath on her face. Too big hands on her sides, feeling up and down.

"No," she pants, pushing at him. "Stop."

"Come on," he croons, voice like a snake. "You're so cute. How about you invite me up for coffee?"

Her nails rake down his arms. Claw at his neck, pushing him.

He stumbles back. Anger on his face. "What the fuck, Meg? I thought…"

"You're wrong," she sobs. "You're a nice guy, but… No, don't!"

She sees him too late. Is too late to give warning. Rorschach has him by the collar. Fist already connecting with Mark's face. Over and over again.

"Rorschach, stop! Don't."

Mark isn't a criminal. He's in shape, but he's overwhelmed. In no time, Rorschach has him on the ground. Boots connect with his stomach.

Meg grabs Rorschach by the arm. He throws her off violently, and she trips on the stairs. Falls, hitting her head again.

But he stops.

"He wasn't hurting me," she says, blinking as Rorschach's face swims around.

Rorschach cocks his head. The blots on his face move sinuously across his face.

"Okay, he scared me," she corrects. "But I think he was going to stop."

"Not good enough."

She shakes her head. "No, it's not. But… but he stopped now. And he won't do it again. This one, don't kill. Don't… I'll call the police. Tell them what he did. Just… leave it. This time. Please."

"Criminals must be punished."

"Believe me, he'll think twice before ever ignoring the word no again. And, if he doesn't, you can kill him." She wipes her face, surprised to find she's crying. Climbs to her feet, holding onto the railing of the stairs leading to the building. "Thank you, though. For stopping him. I didn't know what to do."

He looks her up and down. Shakes his head. Turns and walks away.

_Rorschach's Journal, May 21, 1985_

_City full of whores and rapist. Hard to tell the difference. Hard to tell who's a victim, if there are any left. Vengeance is the only honest thing. Never forget that._

Meg burns the dress. Puts it in a glass jar she gets from a thrift store. She paints Rorschach's symbol on it and keeps it on her nightstand.

He doesn't take it. He doesn't leave anymore notes. He doesn't come.

_Meg's Journal, June 2, 1985_

_End of the World man is still missing from his post. Alexi told me she thinks saw him on another corner, another street, but she isn't sure. She doesn't know and doesn't really care. To her, he's just another indigent man. _

_I hope he's okay. I miss talking to him. Stupid, I know, since he barely talked. I have other people I talk to, anyway. Other people on the street, even. Still. He for whatever reason, I liked talking to him. I guess… something about him always made me feel like he was listening. Listening and analyzing what I said. Don't know why. I probably just annoyed him._

_Alexi broke up with her boyfriend. She says that maybe we should try a double date again. She says it in that kind of robotic way, though, like she's doing it for my benefit. I don't get why it matters. I'm obviously not interested in dating, especially after last time._

_Today will not be a good day. We have to remove some children from their home until the mother finds employment and can prove she can support her kids. As much as I know it needs doing, its hard on everyone. _

Screams and sobs pull Rorschach out of sleep. He lifts his head, wipes away a layer of sweat.

His landlady is shouting. Screaming at someone in her loud, shrill harlot's voice.

"You can't take them! My babies, you can't take them!"

"Mrs. Shairp, you're making a scene. You're making this harder than it has to be. Please, hand over the baby, and we can sit down and talk about this."

He pushes himself off his bed. Is out the door and in the hall without thinking.

The girl is there, dressed normal this time. With her are police and another woman from her office. The woman has four of his landlady's five children. The youngest is being held in landlady's arm, guarded by a butcher knife.

Girl glances back at partner. "Alexi, take the kids out to the car."

"Mommy!" one of them moans.

"It'll be okay, kids. You'll see your mom soon. Come on." The taller girl hustles the children out. Takes them to safety.

Girl steps forward, towards Mrs. Shairp. Her hands are out, placating gesture. Nonthreatening. "We're not doing this because we think you're a bad person, Mrs. Shairp. Dolores, may I call you that?"

"Back off, cunt."

She stops walking. "We don't even think you're a bad mother. You're a good mother. You love your children. But times are tough. Your kids are hungry. Going to school with open sores and dirty faces. They're not taken care of, and we need to take them until things are better for you."

"Better? How the fuck will they get better? This one's father just took off. People won't pay the Goddamn rent, and I've got too many kids to take care of to get a job. How the fuck am I supposed to do whatever it is you think I need to?"

Girl takes another step forward.

Rorschach tenses. Ready in case landlady decides to use the knife on her. Or baby. One is never sure.

"We'll help you with all that. That's what we do. We'll help you and we can help get the rent. Help you find work and take care of those kids the way we both know you want to."

Landlady snorts. Shakes head. "Stupid college bitch. Standing there, thinking you're better than me. Fucking ugly, too. You're thinking your better than me when you can't get a man yourself. You're probably some goddamn dyke who gets off on stealing other people's kids. Sick piece of shit."

Girl licks her lips. Color rises to her face in red blotches. Hands fall to sides, fists clenched. "Hand over the baby," she said. Steps forward again, holds hand out. "And drop the knife."

Stillness. No one moves. Not Girl. Not police. Not Landlady.

Then. Landlady drops knife. It clatters on the floor.

Girl lets out a breath. Moves to take baby.

Landlady moves too fast for anyone to react. She slaps Girl hard, nails raking down her cheek. Skin tears. Blood.

Girl yanks baby away from Landlady and slams heel of hand into her breastbone. Police catch her before she falls, slam her to the floor, cuffing her.

"You okay, Meg?" one of them asks.

She's nodding, walking backwards. Holds baby to her chest, too tight. It squirms and begins to cry. "I'm fine. Okay."

He moves before she bumps into him. Nudges her with the back of hand before she walks backwards down stairs.

Girl jumps and turns. Clutches baby. When sees him, she relaxes. "Oh. Hey." Smiles too-wide smile. "You live here?"

"Yes."

The gash is ragged. Bloody.

"Might need stitches," he says. Points, fingers inches from face.

She crosses her eyes, trying to look. Wipes with hand, smearing blood. Winces. "Maybe."

The police are taking Landlady down the stairs now. He feels a surge of triumph to see her cuffed and sobbing.

Girl doesn't look happy. She shakes the baby gently as it cries. Kisses its head, then says, "She'll be out by tonight. Two, three weeks? The kids will be back. And I'll have to comfort myself with the fact that at least she's not abusing them. Just neglect." She looks back at the baby. Strokes its cheek. "Maybe it's for the best. She obviously loves them. And they love her."

"Meg, let me take the baby down," one of the police say.

She nods and hands it over.

"You need to get your cheek looked at."

"I'll be down in a second." Girl turns away from police. Goes to wall and braces herself.

It takes Rorschach a moment to realize that she's crying. Her shoulders shake, her whole body trembles. There's gasping, soft and quiet.

Then she turns. Tears mix with blood. Her jaw it clenched. Eyes are red. She shakes her head. "Can the world end today?" she finally asks.

He frowns. "Still might. Day's not over."

She laughs. Not a real life. Shakes her head as she slides to the floor. "These last few months have just been hell. There's no money to help the kids like we need to. I'm completely screwed up. My best friend, Alexi? That woman, thinks I'm some kind of closet lesbian because she set me up on a date I didn't want to go on and the guy ends up getting the crap kicked out of him because I wasn't able to fight him off. Because I didn't want to… you know, with him, and that makes me abnormal or something. And because of him, because I was stupid enough to go out with him, Ror… a… friend or whatever…" She stops talking. Wipes her eyes. Inhales and exhales a few times. Then smiles at him. "Sorry. God, I'm sorry to just dump on you."

He doesn't know what to say, so he says nothing.

Girl nods. "You know, you never told me your name."

He shakes his head, but doesn't give it to her.

She gets it. Nods again. "Well. I need to go. Um, you might want to think about cleaning your apartment a little. The smell… it can be a health hazard, and I wouldn't want…" Her eyes well up again. "I hope to see you again, soon. You know. If the world doesn't end." She wipes her eyes and walks away.

Rorschach watches her go.

_iRorschach's Journal, June 2, 1985_

_Tonight, stumbled across child pornography pamphlet of two children. Recognized them. Saw with Girl a month ago. Don't think she knows. /i_

There's a crash in the living room. Meg shoots straight up in bed. Her heart pounds, sweat beading on her forehead. The air is heavy, muggy. It presses against her chest.

She rubs sleep from her eyes, wincing when she touches her sore cheek. When she opens her eyes again, she sees the man in the corner.

She inhales sharply, preparing to scream, when the man steps out of the shadows. The yellow street light plays across his hat and mask.

"Oh shit," she gasps. "Rorschach. You scared me."

"Sorry to wake you." He doesn't sound sorry as he walks across the room to her bed. He holds something out for her.

Eyes on him, she takes it. A pamphlet. She opens it and looks down. Immediately, she flinches back from the horrors inside. Kids, her kids, naked. Posing. Spread out and…

The pamphlet drops from her nerveless fingers. She barely makes it out of the bed and into the bathroom in time.

She hears Rorschach's feet on the floor. Coming toward her.

She pukes up all her dinner. Her bedtime snack and tea. Dry heaves a few times, snot and tears running down her face, mingling with sweat.

When her stomach is empty and calm, she flushes the toilet. Stands up and goes to the sink.

"They're in foster care," she says after rinsing her mouth. "Their parents have been checked out. I mean, caregivers. I mean…. Fucking utter bastards." She lifts her hands to her face. Wipes tears away, but they come too fast. They sting the cut on her cheek, burning her face. She can't breathe. Too many tears. Too little air. Darkness closing in around her and the world was spinning. Too fast and…

"Need to breathe." Rorschach kneels in front of her.

Meg shakes her head. "Can't. I can't… I can't…"

He slaps her.

Her head snaps up. Blinks at him.

"Can't panic. Tell me where they are."

"Um… they're um… at, uh…" She digs her fingers into her head. Tries to draw the information out. Go after it with her fingers. Pull, dig, claw.

The address finally comes. She gives it to him, voice halting and shaking.

"Oh, God," she moans after she gets it out. "Those poor things."

For a moment, Rorschach seems to hesitate. His hand moves towards her. Hovers inches from her jaw, close.

Then, he clenches it. Rises.

"Where are you going?" Meg pulls herself to her feet. She's exhausted from throwing up, from crying. Her throat is raw and sour.

"Stop perverts."

"Are you going to get the kids out or are you going to leave them there to fend for themselves?"

He just looks at her. She can _feel_ his answer.

"Right. Right, they're kids." She steps toward him. "I'm coming with you."

"No."

"They're my kids."

He comes back over to her. Points to the cut on her cheek, held together by butterfly bandages. Traces it, not touching, but so close, Meg can feel the atoms in the air compressing against her cheek. "Cut by fingernail. Sick over pictures. Won't be able to handle the real thing."

Tears well again. Her nose drips, but she wipes it away with the back of her hand. "I have to."

He doesn't move for a moment. Then, his fists clenches again. He steps back. "Wait an hour. Bring bat." Then he turns and runs through her bedroom, disappearing out her window.

It takes nearly an hour for Meg to get control of herself. To stop crying and dry heaving. Rorschach left the pamphlet in her apartment. She wants to burn it, but she can't. Needs it as evidence.

She calls the police before she leaves. Let's them know what she's found without telling them how she really found it. Calls Alexi and the others, lets them know they're working overtime. Calls the children's home, warns them what's going to happen and requests doctors and psychologists.

Then she goes. Takes a taxi to where the children were being kept. The police aren't there yet. Neither is Alexi or any of the others.

She gets out of the taxi. Walks to the door. It's a small house in a rundown neighborhood. Not the best area, but foster parents didn't always come from the best areas. They do it for the government money instead of because they want children. They want to help.

And then, there were the sick bastards who do it for some kid of sick pleasure. And get through. Somehow, they slip through the safeguards and the checks and the home visits.

The door is ajar, the lock broken. Meg grips her baseball bat and pushes the door in further. Enters. "Hello?" she calls. "Rorschach?"

Silence.

She moves further inside. Maneuvers around furniture. Clothes on the floor. Shoes. Walks down the hall. "Anyone there?"

She hears some sniffing. Soft moans.

"Billy? Sara? "

A dirty, tear-streaked face peeks from around the door. "Meg? Is that you?"

"Billy." Meg drops to her knees. Holds out her arms.

The little boy comes running out. Wraps himself around her. Sobs into her neck.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, rubbing his back. "I'm so, so sorry." She kisses his tangled hair. Looks up. "Sara, honey. Come here. It's safe now."

The girl, slightly older, is standing in the doorway. Her eyes are dry. Narrowed and angry. She doesn't say anything. Just glares.

"Sara, I'm sorry," Meg says. "Really and truly. We thought… there's no excuse. None." Her throat closes, but she forces the lump away. "We thought…"

Rorschach appears, running from the basement. He grabs the girl in one arm, Meg's arm in the other. "Run."

Together, they run through the house. Meg almost trips over a shoe on the floor, but Rorschach yanks her to her feet. Practically drags her outside, across the yard. Into the street when…

_Boomf!_

The explosion causes the four of them to go flying. Rorschach lands first. He releases Sara, who rolls away. Meg lands on top of him, head slamming against his breastbone.

For a moment she lays there, breathing. Her heartbeat thunders in her ear, but it sounds far away. Everything does. Her head spins and she feels kind of dreamy. Lost. Under her head, she can feel Rorschach breathing. Feel his chest rise and fall. His heart beating under layers of clothes. His hand on her back.

Then, it's like he realizes they're touching. He stiffens. Pushes her away, off him. Moves backwards swiftly as she sits up, Billy still in her arms.

Billy is crying softly now, obviously trying to muffle his sobs. She strokes his hair as she turns so she can see the house.

It's burning furiously. Bits of roof and wood and furniture fall through the air. Land on the street, the lawns. Light up the night in a strange sort of beauty.

Sirens wail. Her ears must not be working properly because the cars sound like they're miles away, even though they're at the end of the street. It's like her ears are stuffed with cotton. She feels kind of sleepy because of it.

Rorschach rises. He looks down at her a moment, and even though she can't see his eyes, she feels as if she's staring right into them. Then, he turns and runs off, slipping into the shadows just as the first police arrive.


	2. Chapter 2

_iMeg's Journal, June 4, 1985_

_I haven't slept in two days. After we got Billy and Sara out of that awful house, we went to the hospital. Even I had to get checked out, which was ridiculous. The explosion made my ears ring, that's all; it's the kids who were hurt. _

_Billy hasn't let me out of his sight for two days. Any time I go to another room, he starts crying hysterically. Even right now, I'm sitting in a chair next to his bed, trying to get comfortable and stop my mind from spinning._

_The police know about Rorschach. They don't know that he's been contacting me on and off for months, but they figured out he was the one behind the explosion. Sara told them, described him. She's angry at the world and cast as much blame on him for what happened as she does on me and her tormenters. _

_I told the police that I found the pamphlet in my mailbox. I didn't find it until the middle of the night because I went to bed without looking through the mail. That I got there before anyone and went inside, because I needed to make sure the kids were safe. The believe me._

_I feel so sick and dirty and disheartened. It's my job to take care of these kids, and I completely failed. I wish I could crawl into a hole. I wish I was strong enough to put on a mask and go exact real justice. _

_I can't do either. And wish I knew what to do./i_

June 4, 1985

Dear Miss Walker,

I am writing in regards to the incident a few days ago. Namely, you discovered two of the children your department placed inadvertently with abusive caregivers. In your interview on the news, you cited one reason these particular villains slipped through the cracks and were able to perpetrate this crime was that funding to screen potential foster parents was limited. I believe I can help.

As you know, the i_Veidt Industries/i _is worth billions. We often donate to charitable causes. In your case, I believe a mere donation won't be enough. I would like to hold a benefit in honor of your social services department. The funds raised would be channeled into better screening, better care for children, and anything else you would need. By holding a fundraiser, I am sure we will be able to draw enough attention to your situation as to secure funds well into the future.

I am at your disposal, Miss Walker. Please call my office at any time. You will always be directed right through.

Yours truly,

Adrian Veidt.

_iMeg's Journal, June 5, 1985_

_I've been asked to take Billy in with me until the worst has passed. He won't sleep or eat without me near. When I pointed out that I have a one bedroom apartment, they said it was okay. Right now, Billy needs to feel secure, and he feels secure with me. I've been given time off, with pay, to care for him._

_I've also been strongly encouraged to reply to Mr. Veidt as soon as possible. I wish he'd contacted Alexi instead. He used to be a super-hero. He's the smartest man on the planet. Next to him, I'm going to feel like a maggot. I hate feeling like a maggot._

_Rorschach's Journal, June 5, 1985_

_Pornography ring wider than just two kids. Rest not from Girl's department, other districts. Am tracing the source. There's a lot of money being made on children's tears and horrors. Will trace it to its source and make them all pay. The gutters will run red with blood and children's tears will be washed away./i_

Meg sinks down onto her couch cum bed. Every bit of her is exhausted. Motherhood is every bit as hard as she thought. It's one of many reasons she's never really thought about joining the ranks as one. She loves children, devotes her life to them, would die for a child. But this is almost more than she can do.

Still. Billy needs her. Needs someone to watch out for him, someone who can take his fears away. For some reason, it's her. If she believed in God, Meg would say that it was fate or something. But, she doesn't, and she knows it's just an accident of circumstance. She was there, she got him out of that house. Never mind she put him in, she got him out. So, it's she to whom he turns.

She has work to do. Someone is still covering her at the office, but she's been put in charge of this fundraiser thing Adrian Veidt came up with. She's the liaison to his office, the one working with his secretaries and assistants to get everything ready. She even works with him on occasion. She doesn't know if he's doing this out of the goodness of his heart or for the publicity. She just knows it's money the department needs.

Besides. He seems nice enough. He's very friendly to her and kind to Billy, who goes with Meg everywhere. Whenever they meet personally, Adrian always has a toy or a sweet or a book for Billy. For her, it's always coffee, a pastry, and a smile. For someone so rich and so brilliant, he treats her with respect. She never feels like he's looking down on her.

Well. Not much.

Her mind is drifting and she can't seem to focus. She picks up a book and opens it. Her nights are spent trying to work, trying to sleep, and calming Billy down. She doesn't have time to read or do anything for herself. She's been on the same page now for almost a month.

A noise wakes her. She opens her eyes, not remembering when she fell asleep. Her head is on the back of the couch, her neck at an awkward angle. It aches as she lifts it. She rubs at the kink it is, looking around as she tries to figure out what woke her.

Rorschach appears from behind her, walking around the couch. Startled, Meg jumps, hands going to her mouth to stifle her exclamation.

He glances at her. She swears he's frowning and he kind of shuffles to the coffee table in front of her like he's approaching a growling dog. His hand goes into his pocket and he produces a wad of money. This he places in front of her, then steps back.

Megs sheet is tangled around her legs. She kicks it away and leans forward. Takes the wad from the table.

"Oh my God! Where did you get this?"

It's money. Hundred dollar bills all wrapped around each other. A thick, heavy wad, more money than she'd ever held in her life.

"Found head of pornography ring."

She looks up at him, mouth falling open. "Were there any more kids?"

"Not any of yours. Police have them now."

"And the... the adults?"

"Dead."

She nods. Of course. Again, she should condemn him. Tell him to stop killing people. That the police should be dealing with it. That there were laws and procedures and...

And she just does' t care. She wants them to suffer for what they did.

"I can't keep this." She rises. Holds the money out.

He steps back. "Yours."

"No, it's not. I can't... it's wrong."

"They were wrong. They don't need it anymore."

"Neither do I." And she doesn't. Not really. At least, maybe not that much.

Rorschach points to her bedroom where Billy was still asleep. Still peaceful. "Feed him. Clothe him. Take care of him." He looks her up and down. "You, too."

"I'm fine."

"Lost weight. Eating less. You give everything to him."

Her eyes fill with tears. "Don't you think he deserves it?"

Rorschach takes another step away from her. "Take the money." His hands are in his pockets as he walks toward the door.

"Wait."

He stops at it. Turns.

"I should thank you. I mean, I do thank you. You have no idea... you've done so much. Saved me, saved him. And I can't..." She licks her lips. Steps forward. "Isn't there anything you want?"

The air freezes around them.

She isn't sure what's wrong, so she just pushes on. "I mean... would you like some coffee? I could make you something. I think I have steak or burgers or... something. Or, uh, my shower. Would you like... or I could wash your clothes. I don't know. Just something to thank you."

He stares at her a long time. She can see the stiffness in his shoulders, how straight his back is. He's offended, that's clear to see. But, it's just a thank you. He's just given her a ton of cash. The least she can do is scramble some eggs or something.

His shoulders slowly relax. Posture shifts into something more normal. For him, at any rate. "Not hungry," he finally says. He turns and puts his hand on the door knob. Before he leaves, he looks back at her. "Maybe another time."

There's a cough from the bedroom. A sniffing and then a familiar panicked breath.

"Go," Rorschach says.

Meg nods. Gives him a little wave. "Thanks."

Billy's panicked breathing grow louder, so she turns and runs for her bedroom.

"It's okay, honey. I'm here," she says, climbing onto the bed. "Don't worry. I'm here." She wraps her arms around and kisses the top of his head. Rocks him as he snuggles against her, arms tight around her waist.

She hears the door close. Suddenly the apartment feels just a little bit emptier.

_iMeg's Journal, July 1, 1985_

_I've given money to every person on my route except Walter (End is Nigh guy; I looked up his name while we were dealing with his landlady). I haven't seen him since Rorschach gave me the money. Billy's therapy appointment is uptown so we take a bus instead of walking. But, when I see him next, I'll give him some. _

_I'm keeping most of it. I put some in the bank. Bought Billy new clothes. Got some food. I may start looking for apartments. Two bedrooms. One I can do some nice things with for Billy._

_I'm kind of thinking about maybe adopting him. Perhaps._

_Another long day setting up for the fundraiser. Two more days./i_

"You look tired," Adrian says, coming up to Meg.

Meg looks up from the seating chart she's trying to put together. Smiles wearily. "I'm a bit. Something I can do for you?"

He sits down across from her. "No. I just thought I'd come down to see how you're doing."

"Fine. I got the last of the RSVPs today, spoke with the media, double checked the menu, and confirmed that the decorations will be here tomorrow at ten o'clock." She rubbed her temples. "I'm just going over the seating chart."

"I thought my assistant was doing that."

Meg shrugs. "She says she doesn't have time. It's no problem."

His eyes harden. "No, it is a problem." His words are more clipped, more precise. The faint accent that sometimes appeared when they were alone grew more pronounced. "It is a problem because this is her job. It's a problem because you are overworking yourself. I've only known you a few weeks and you must have lost nearly ten pounds. You're always tired. You're always working. It's not just you, Meg. You have Billy to think about." He turns and looks at the little boy who is coloring on the floor a few feet from Meg's desk.

Meg's eyes fill with tears. Quickly, she stands up. Turns away from him. Lately, everything seems to set her off, and she can't bear to have someone as powerful and together as Adrian see her dissolve like this. "I am thinking of Billy. I think about him every moment of ever day. I can't not. He's suddenly become my whole world." Her hands go to her face and she walks away from the two of them.

It's a huge room. Lots of windows. She goes to one far from Billy. Looks down, onto the city. It's huge and strangely beautiful from up here. Down there, it's huge and dark and scary. Dirty and frustrating and heartbreaking.

A tear falls. She wipes it away. Tries to get control of herself.

Adrian comes and leans on the window, looking at her. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing. I'm fine."

He cups her chin in his hand. Lifts her head so he can look in her eyes. "We both know that's a lie. What's wrong?"

She sniffs. Shakes her head. "I'm just so tired. Billy needs so much from me, and I'm not strong enough to give it to him. And I feel like it's my fault that he was hurt in the first place. If this is my penance, fine, but I feel like I'm failing it. Failing in him. Nothing is enough."

For a moment, he doesn't say anything. Then, he opens his mouth, the platitudes already written across his face.

He stops, though. Closes his mouth again. Cocks his head and studies her, his fingers gently stroking her jaw.

Meg wants to squirm under his scrutiny, but she doesn't. It's not uncomfortable, not exactly. Not the kind of uncomfortable she feels normally when she's being stared at. When people judge her looks and find her wanting.

Adrian isn't like that. He doesn't seem to care about the surface as much as what's underneath. And he's really good at reading what's going on underneath.

Finally, he releases her jaw. Places his hand on her cheek before sliding it down to her shoulder. "When is the last time you slept?"

Sleep. As if she has time. "Not since before That Night." No need to specify which night. That Night has taken on the significance of the creation of the world.

"I thought Billy was getting better."

"He is. His nightmares have stopped, so he's mostly sleeping through the night. Also, he doesn't need me with him every moment of the day. I was able to catch a short nap while he was in therapy. But, I'm not really sleeping. I can't get comfortable on the couch. I wake up every time Ror… at every little noise."

"You're sleeping on your couch?" His eyes darken and his hand tightens on her shoulder.

She nods. "Yeah. I've got a one bedroom apartment. Billy has the bed."

"That's ridiculous. Couldn't you share?" He glances back at Billy. "He's small."

Meg sighs, which turns into a yawn. "I thought about it. I was going to ask his therapist, see if she thought it'd be, you know. Okay. Considering." She leans against the window, needing something to support her weight. Until Adrian brought it up, she hasn't realized exactly how tired she is. "But I decided it wasn't a good idea. He needs to learn that it's okay to be apart from me."

He nods. It's clear his mind is working to solve the insignificant problem she's placed before him. "Well, then. I'll buy you a futon. No." He gives a sharp shake of his head and brushes the idea away with the wave of his hand. "That's not enough. I'll buy you a better apartment. In a better part of the city. You'll have your own room, your own office. Billy can have a playroom. You'll have a dining room, everything you need to raise him comfortably."

"Funny." She wipes her eyes, banishing the last of her tears. She needs to get back to work. If she doesn't, she'll asleep on her feet. She begins to walk back to her desk.

Adrian stops her, putting his hands on both shoulders. "I'm quite serious, Meg," he says, blocking her path. "You are a very special person. Smart, funny. But more than, you're empathic. You care for people and take care of them. Look what you've done for Billy."

"I had to."

"No, you didn't," he corrects her. "Your obligation was to inform the police of what you'd learn, then find a new placement for Billy. Instead, you risked your life for him. Plus, you've given your life to him. You take care of him. You're a hero."

Her face grows hot. She can't look at him. "Please. You're Ozymandias. And, I mean, even after you retired, you're still out there. Raising money and awareness. Doing good things."

He turns her head, guiding her eyes back to his. "One needn't put on a mask to be a hero, Meg."

She blushes harder. Doesn't know what to say.

"Please. I want to do this for you. I want to make your life just a little bit easier."

And what do you want in return? Meg can't help but think. But that's uncharitable. Maybe. The thing with Adrian is that he's kind and gentlemanly. Even flirtatious. He touches her gently: her hands, her arm, her shoulders, her face, and it wasn't off putting like it usually is when men touched her. He makes her feel special by the attention he pays her, the way he looks into her eyes when he talked to her, the way he talks to her at all.

But she can't figure out what he wants. For all courtly attention, he didn't seem sexually interested in her. He never asks her for anything, never makes any demands. There's no reason to think he has any ulterior motive.

And yet, sometimes, she can't help but think he does.

"Thanks, Adrian. But I'm fine. I'm already looking into getting a new place."

His face brightens. "That's wonderful. Allow me to assist you in your search."

"Maybe…" Her sentence is broken off by a huge yawn.

"You need sleep. Come."

"I can't. Billy…"

"I'll take care of Billy. You are going to get some sleep."

She shook her head. Stumbled a little. "You have a couch in some office?"

"Better. There's a suite in the building, for nights I can't get out." He turns her around and steers her. "Come on. Let's get you some sleep."

Meg is too tired to argue anymore. Adrian collects Billy, then leads them further into the endless maze of the Veidt Industries building. She vaguely recalls going up another floor or two, and a beautiful living room with a large television and expensive furniture. Then, she's being tucked into a huge bed under a thick, purple duvet, being kissed on the forehead by both Billy and Adrian, then drifting off into a dreamless sleep.

_Rorschach's Journal, July 1, 1985_

_Crime chokes the streets and no one cares. Found kids living in cardboard box. Youngest one younger than Girl's boy. Scabs, sores, lice all over them. Cower from the light, eating garbage. Gave them money left over from pedophiles. Will tell Girl about them even though not her area. _

_Stopped rapist. So-called victim offered to pay me in sex. Cursed me when I turned down. Shouldn't have even bothered. Only one spot glows in the dankness of world._

Meg opens her eyes. For a moment she lays there, disoriented. She has no clue where she is, how she got here. The lights streaming in aren't the ones that shine on her street, and the bed is much bigger, soft, and more comfortable than hers.

She stretches. Yawns. Memory trickles back. She's in Adrian's suite at Veidt Industries. She'd broken down earlier. He'd brought her here, insisting she get rest. Tucked her into bed. Told her to sleep. And she had. For the first time in weeks.

She's still tired, but not as bone weary exhausted as before. It's almost manageable now.

The memory of Adrian helping her into bed, and then tucking her in makes her blush. Squirm on the fine cotton sheets.

Adrian Veidt is the smartest man in the world, and one of the most powerful. She's a nobody social worker with an average IQ and no power or money to speak of. The fact he even knows she exists is mind boggling. That he's actually taking care of her...that he _cares_ about her is almost more than she can comprehend.

A scraping sound comes to her attention. It's loud in the stillness of the suite.

Meg sits up. Her breath catches in her throat reflexively when she sees a dark form sitting on the windowsill.

"God," she breathes out when she recognizes the shape. "You'd think I'd be used to this by now."

Rorschach rises from the windowsill. He's got a plate in one hand and a fork in the other. He sits on the bed and hands the plate to her. There's an untouched sandwich, a small fruit salad, and the remains of something greasy.

"What's this?"

"Dinner. Know you don't like coleslaw, so helped myself."

She picks up the salad, wondering how he knows about the coleslaw. Bites into the sandwich. Corned beef on rye with mustard; better warm, but still delicious.

"You bring this?"

He snorts. Picks up a carelessly crumpled paper from the bedspread and hands it to her.

_Meg _it reads. _I'm in the lab, working with Dr. Manhattan. I gave Billy his bath and put him to bed; he was asleep when I left him in the room next to yours. There's more food in the kitchen if you want. If you need anything else, dial 0303 from any phone and you'll be connected with my assistant. Feel free to request anything. Sleep well, Adrian._

"Billy," she says, setting the note down. She pushes the duvet off her legs and climbs out of bed.

Her head spins the moment she's on her feet. A wave of exhaustion suddenly washes over her, and she stands, swaying. God, she hadn't realized she was so tired. Now that she's gotten just a little rest, it's all crashing down on her.

"Boy's asleep. He's fine," Rorschach says, still sitting on the bed.

"I should check on him." She leans against the dresser next to the bed. "I don't want him panicking if he wakes up and can't find me."

"Hasn't done that in a week and a half."

Meg blinks. Raises her eyebrow. "Well. No. But this is a strange place. He might forget where he is and panic."

"He's fine." Rorschach takes her by the elbow. Pulls her back to the bed. "Rest." When she frowns at him, he adds, "You'll wake him."

He's probably right, Meg decides. She shifts back in bed and picks her sandwich up again. "How did you know I was here?" she asks, taking a bite.

"Weren't at home. Only other place you're at these days."

"That's not true. I take Billy to the therapist every morning. And we go to the park in the afternoon now. Well. Not today, but we did yesterday."

He shrugs a shoulder. "Only other place you'd be this time of night." He reaches into his pocket and holds something out for her. "Found five kids here. Need help."

She reads the cross streets and sighs. That area is a slum, one of the worst parts of towns. If there are kids there, they'll soon be recruited into delivering drugs or committing other petty crimes. And from there, who knew?

There's a phone on the table next to the bed. Meg picks it up and dials the number for the children's shelter. When the operator on duty picks up, Meg lets her know about the kids and their location. She's assured that someone will go out and get them right away.

She hangs up and looks at Rorschach. "Unless you think I should go out, that's the best I can do."

"Calling was fine."

"There are other people you can tell about this, you know. It doesn't always have to be me. I could give you the number of the children's shelter. You can report it yourself."

He shakes his head.

Meg sighs and leans back on her pillows. "It's probably better, I guess. They've got a maximum capacity and if they've already reached it, there's nothing really they can do. Oh, they call the cops and stuff. Let them know. File a report. Sometimes contact another shelter or the hospital, but, really, they're over worked and underpaid. Understaffed. There are so many kids out there and so few beds. So few people who can take care of them. At least when I know about it, I can do something. Find a place, bully them into it. Take the kids in myself if I absolutely have to. But it's not always me." She rubs her nose and lets out another sigh. "Sometimes, it's all I can do not to drown in the hopelessness of it all."

Rorschach doesn't say anything. He rises from the bed and goes to the window. Looks out.

"Rorschach?" Meg says.

He turns back to her.

"May I ask you something?"

He doesn't say anything, so she takes that for consent.

"How do you get your…" She's not sure why she hesitates to call it a mask. Instead, she gestures to her face. "How does it move?"

"Special fabric," he responds after a moment. "Came out in '62." He comes back to the bed and sits, facing her. "Based off Dr. Manhattan. Viscous fluids between latex. Heat and pressure sensitive."

She licks her lips. "So, it responds to your emotions. The heat your skin gives off when you feel different things."

He hitches a shoulder.

Hand trembling, Meg reaches out. When Rorschach doesn't pull away, she works up the courage to rest her fingers against his cheek. Feel the material. Press against it.

It feels strange. Squishy and rubbery. Fluid. And yet, it feels a lot like skin.

She can tell she's blushing, her face is so hot. If asked, she wouldn't be able to tell why. "Wow. It feels like… like skin. Like it's your face."

"Is my face."

Meg turns that over in her mind. Puzzles over it and the implication. "So," she finally says, "Rorschach is who you feel that you truly are. The face underneath… the person…"

"My mask."

"Right." She sits back. Picks up her sandwich again. Takes another bite. "You know. When I decided I was going to move to the city, I never really thought I'd ever be in a position like this. Sitting in the corporate headquarters of one former hero and… friends with another." She looks up at Rorschach. "We're friends, right?"

His head goes back. Thinking. Even the dark spots on mask looked pensive. "Don't have friends. Maybe one. Old partner. Never a woman."

"Oh." She feels disappointed. To cover it, she reaches for a pillow, looking away until she can compose her face. Then she hugs the pillow to her chest. Picks up her sandwich and takes another bite. "So, uh…Why, then?"

"Why what?"

She picks a piece of meat from the sandwich. Pops it in her mouth. "Well. Why do you keep leaving things for me? Articles and stuff. You follow me home, know my schedule. Know I hate coleslaw. If you don't like me, then why?"

He gets off the bed. Walks back to the window. One gloved hand presses against the paned glass as he looks out over the city. "Didn't say don't… have positive feelings towards you. Said never had woman friend."

Meg gazes at him. At the straight line of his back. The tight set of his shoulders.

No friends. Well. One. She's really not surprised. From the way he talks--both the flat, monotone and the sort of disjointed manner he put his sentences together—and his hygiene issues, she's suspected he might be, if not schizophrenic, then at least be schizoaffective or something similar. People like that generally have a hard time connecting with other people. She knows Rorschach disdains much of the world. Add in mental problems, she's not surprised he might not be able to see trees for the forest.

But he's left open the possibility. He's seen her. For whatever reason, Meg's gotten through.

"So," she says finally, climbing off the bed. "We _are_ friends." Slowly, she walks towards the window on shaky legs. It feels like her every muscle in her is trembling. "Because you're basically my best friend, and I don't know what I'd have done without you the past few months."

She's next to him now. Presses her hand on the glass next to his, bracing herself. In the fine leather glove, his hand looks elegant and graceful. Long, slim fingers. Strong hands that narrowed into slim wrists, mostly hidden by the cuffs of his coat sleeves. Next to him, her hands look squat and square, all calluses and scratches. Short, uneven nails and rough, dry skin.

Tentatively, she moves her hand closer to his, until the edges of their fingers barely touch.

Rorschach makes a noise deep in his throat, an exhale with just the slightest vibration of vocal cords. Meg doesn't know what it means, but before she can start trying to work it out, he says, "You are."

"I am?"

"Friend."

The blush is back. She licks her lips. Watches him out of the corner of her eyes. She doesn't want to ruin the moment by asking him why or saying anything else stupid. Really, it doesn't matter. It happened. They met and for some reason, something she said connected. And now they're here.

And she doesn't know what to do. So, she stands next to him, taking a half step closer.

He's showered sometime in the recent past. Instead of smelling dirty and pungent, foul, he smells... human. Someone who's been in the sun and sweated onto flesh that is fairly clean. A kind of earthy, masculine scent that makes Meg's stomach tighten.

She licks her lips. "You know everything about me," she says finally.

He looks at her. "Not everything."

"Well. A lot. I don't know much about you." She turns her body to face him. "But, you know, it doesn't matter. What you look like or what you do all day. I don't care that you kill the people you do. In fact, I have to admit, I'm glad. I'm glad you blew up the house where we found Billy. Glad you killed the guy who attacked me. I'm glad you're doing what the police force is too weak to do."

"Do what's necessary."

"I know. Thank you."

He turns to her. Steps closer, bringing their bodies so they were mere inches apart. "So do you. You sacrifice. Fight a battle every day. Don't cow under, don't look away. You see the world, know it. Fight for it. And still believe there's something worth saving."

"There is. There has to be."

He tilts his head to the side. "Stopped believing that long time ago." He reaches out, hand stopping just over her cheek. Not touching, but she can feel him anyway. "You make it seem maybe world isn't unsalvageable after all."

Her heart's beating too fast. She kind of wants to do something stupid, something unthinkable. She kind of wants to kiss him, to press her lips against his, even with the mask on. On or off, it doesn't matter. She's never wanted to kiss anyone, not that she can remember, but this insane idea has taken hold and she finds herself swaying towards him.

Loud footsteps from the hall cause them both to leap away from each other. There's a shadow under the door, coming closer.

Without a word, Rorschach pushes the window open. His grappling hook is already secured to the window ledge. Meg watches as he lithely climbs out and wraps his hands around the rope.

He pauses. Looks at her.

"Good-night, Rorschach," Meg says.

He nods his head, then disappears out of sight.

The door opened just as Meg is closing the window.

"Oh, you're up," Adrian says, stepping inside.

She turns. Nods, rubbing her eyes. "Just barely."

"Feel any better?"

"Somewhat. Only, I kind of feel more tired. Not sure why."

Adrian walks over to her and takes her by the arm. Leading her back to bed, he says, "You've slept off the worst of the exhaustion, but that was just the tip of the iceberg. You still need sleep."

She allows him to lower her to the bed. After he pulls the covers back over her, he settles next to her. Takes her hand.

"You know, Meg, there's a lot to do the next few days. These fundraisers always become very overwhelming at the last moment. I was thinking that perhaps it would help if you and Billy stayed in at my penthouse."

"You mean here?"

He shakes his head. "No. This is where I stay when I can't get out. My penthouse is a few blocks away. It's closer to Billy's therapist and here. A few more blocks to your office, but I can lend you the use of my car." He strokes her hand, his thumb rubbing over each of her knuckles. "I just thought it might ease some of your burden."

"I'll think about it," she says. "It might help, but I'll have to go home and get clothes." She groans and lets her head fall back. It lands on Adrian's shoulder; she hadn't realized he's so close. "I still don't know what I'm going to wear to the fundraiser."

"Let me buy you something."

"Adrian…"

"Meg." He drops her hand and reaches up to stroke her jaw. "A dinner such as the one you've organized require a certain type dress. I know you're uncomfortable with the idea of dressing up. And I know that you can't afford anything expensive. Let me buy you a dress, and I promise that when you're in it, you'll feel just as comfortable as you are in your most casual clothes."

She rolls her eyes. "I doubt it."

He smiles. His eyes dance with amusement in the moonlight. "Trust me. I know many things. Just one of those many things is fashion. And I enjoy dressing up people."

"Oh, so now I'm a doll."

He kisses her on the forehead. Gives her a hug. "You are a doll, Meg. But, really, it'll be fun. And I think you need that. We both do."

Meg nods. Rests her head on Adrian's shoulder and closes her eyes. "We'll have to take Billy," she says, words slurring unintentionally.

"Of course."

She wants to say more, but her mind is breaking apart. Her life is a whirlwind and she's caught up in it. Rorschach, Adrian. A man she wants to kiss, that she wants to know better. Another man who takes care of her, who touches her without making her uncomfortable. A man she's curled up with, falling asleep against without feeling the slightest bit threatened or uncomfortable or unsure.

For a moment, she can't help but wondering what it would be like to be curled like this with Rorschach. The image warms her and follows her as she drifts back to sleep.

_Meg's Journal, July 2, 1985_

_Billy told me to leave. He actually told me that he wanted me to leave so he can play. I'm thrilled and ecstatic and joyful. I'm empty and shaky and near tears. I hadn't realized how used I've become to his constant presence. His hand in mine, his arms around my waist. Looking over to him every few minutes to make sure he's still okay, still entertained by his books or coloring or toys or video._

_I feel kind of bereft. And I feel guilty about that, because this is a breakthrough. This is what we've been working towards._

_I feel free. Happy. Unfettered. I want to run and scream and dance. I want to go home and sleep. I was to do something stupid. And I feel guilty about that because I love Billy so much and he needs me. The fact that I'm glad he's gone makes me a terrible person. It must._

_I feel… confused._

"Hey, Alexi," Meg says as she rushes to her desk. It's covered in folders and paper, which she sweeps into her bag. She drops into her chair and begins to scan her messages, trying to see if there's anything pressing.

"Hey. Where's the kid?" Alexi asks, turning in her chair.

Meg grins. "Billy wanted to stay at preschool today. Usually, after we go to the therapist, I take him the preschool down next to the shelter? He only ever can stay an hour because that's all I can stay. Past week, he's been crying when we leave because we wants to stay with his friends. So, today, he told me to go and pick him up later. Actually pushed me and told me he'd be fine." She pushes her bangs from her face; they're getting long. She should get them cut before the fundraiser. "He might actually be able to go to kindergarten this fall."

"That's great. You keeping him?"

"I might. It'd probably be best for him. Course, if I do, I'll have to move. Adrian wants me to let him buy me a place, but…"

"Adrian Veidt? He wants to buy you an apartment? Are you two sleeping together?"

Her entire body went up in flame. They had slept together, after all. Adrian had fallen asleep with her last night. They'd woken with a foot of space between them, Adrian's hand on her arm. All very innocent, all very chaste.

Alexi, though, would never buy something like that.

"No, we're not sleeping together," she says.

"You're blushing."

"Because I'm embarrassed. Because you know questions like that embarrass me and I think they're inappropriate, and you ask them anyway." She runs both hands through her hair. "Look. Adrian has been spending a lot of time with me and Billy. I don't know why, except I think he likes that I'm doing something good for society. I don't know. I do know that he doesn't like I live in such a bad part of town, especially not with a kid. And he knows about the attack."

"Why does he care? I mean, why you? You're…." She breaks off. Shakes her head.

"What, ugly?"

"Just, he's giving attention to you like you'll return it. But you're, you know." She leans in, over the desk. Whispers. "A lesbian."

"I'm not a lesbian! I'm not anything. And Adrian… He'll lose interest. Once the fundraiser is over. I'll introduce the two of you tomorrow night, and I'm sure that, what with you being gorgeous and sexy and all, he'll be enchanted."

Alexi seems somewhat appeased. She leans back. "All right. Sorry I was being a bitch. I just haven't had a date in forever. And job's getting me down. So. Just so you know, we're doing a follow up visit to Shairpe 's place tomorrow. We've got, uh, three home visits, and one of your kids called in and wants to talk to you."

Meg holds up the message. "Yeah, I saw that. I'll call from Veidt Industries later. I still need to swing by my apartment, pick up some clothes, then go pick up Billy." She sighs. "Thanks for holding up my end. I'll pay you back. I promise."

"Meg, don't worry about it. I know you will. Besides, you're saving the world. Don't worry about me."

She rolls her eyes, then waves as she gathers the rest of her belongings together. Her mind is already going a mile a minute as she leaves the office. Hits the street. She waves to Terri, the homeless woman who hangs around the office, but doesn't have time to stop. Says hi to the different kids along the route. Smiles at the man who plays the guitar on the corner, in front of all his belongings. She drops some coins in his hat.

She almost walks by Walter without seeing him, it's been so long. She actually gets passed him, then stops at the newsstand, realizing who she sees. She turns to make sure, then walks back to him.

He's looking at her, sign rested kind of casually on his shoulder, leaning against the wall.

Meg can't help the smile. She walks back to him, smiling probably wider than necessary. "Hey! I haven't seen in you in forever."

As usual, his face is expressionless. "Been busy," he says flatly. His body language, though, is welcoming. Arm hanging down loosely, foot propped against the wall. Entire body relaxed as he looks down on her.

"You too?"

His eyebrow twitches, which, for him, is the same as a smile.

Pleased, Meg sets down her bag. Inside is the envelope with cash she set aside for him weeks ago. She takes it out now and straightens. "Look, um. I know we don't know each other very well, but I talk to you all the time. And you're still here. I mean, most of the time. You know what I mean. I mean…." She sighs in frustration. Runs her hand through her hair. "I talk to a lot of people on the street. They need to talk, right? And there's no one to listen. But for some reason, I keep talking to you. I mean, you don't talk. Not much. But, you listen. I think. And, uh, I get the feeling you don't mind that I talk your ear off."

His shoulder raises and lowers. "Don't mind."

"That's good to know." She licks her lips. "Anyway. You know I, um. I saw where you live. And I kinda came into some money recently. Right? A lot. I don't like keeping things all to myself. I like to share with friends. So, um. Here." She holds the envelope out.

He looks at it, then back at her. His eyes roll up. Jaw tightens. "Money is for _you_," he growls.

Meg frowns. His voice. His annoyance. His…

"Oh my God," she breathes. Her eyes feel like they've popped open. She her gaze over his body, her heart pounding. Then, as her cheeks start burning, her eyes settle momentarily on his lips. She blushes harder, remembering last night. Remembering the strange urge to kiss him.

Rorschach seems to realize what's going through her mind. His skin colors. He pushes away from the wall. Pushes past her and walks swiftly away, disappearing down the alley.

"Wait!" She drops the envelope back into her bag. Runs after him. "Wait. Please, I'm sorry. I didn't…"

"Go away."

"Rorschach." She grabs him by the arm.

He stops. Stares straight ahead, still as stone.

She lets go. Runs her hand down her slacks, nervous. "Last night, I told you I didn't care about what's under your… face. It still doesn't."

He doesn't say anything.

Meg lets out a breath. Steps back. "Anyway. Billy and I are going to be staying at Adrian Veidt's penthouse for the next couple nights. The drive's been… hard on me, and Billy's therapist and school and everything is up there. So…" She shrugs. "Anyway. I'm sorry about the money."

"Too soft sometimes."

"Maybe. But not towards those who hurt other without justification.

He gives her a look. His eyes, she notice, brush over her lips. Then he turns away. "Where's boy?"

"Shit!" She checks her watch. "Dammit, I gotta go. I have to pick him up in about fifteen minutes." She turns and begins running down the alley. Then, still running, she turns. "Stay safe, okay? I worry about you."

He's leaning against his sign. Watching her. His chin lifts. "Never in danger. Offer it."

She grin at him, then turns and runs off.

_Rorschach's Journal, July 2, 1985_

_No one has ever recognized me without my face. Ever connected Walter to me. Don't mind. Not really._

_Uncovered nest of drug dealers near box of kids. Sweeping in today, cleaning them out._

_Meg's Journal, July 3, 1985_

_Billy's with the baby-sitter at Adrian's penthouse. Adrian has a camera feeding video images so if Billy gets anxious, the baby-sitter can put us on. If it gets too bad, she'll call or come right away._

_I'm so nervous, I feel like I'm going to throw up. I'm wearing a dress. Adrian was right; the dress, as elegant as it is, is comfortable and makes me look kind of passable as a woman. He convinced me to get my hair styled, too, and talked me into make-up. I feel like a doll, I feel like a fool._

_But I kind of feel pretty, too._

"How are you holding up?" Adrian asks just as Meg walks away from yet another famous guest she's just shaken hands with and thanked.

Meg lets out a huge sigh. "I don't know. My cheeks hurt from smiling too much. How do you do it all the time?"

He laughs and puts his hand on her lower back. "After awhile, you build up muscles," he says, his accent noticeably thicker. It does that more and more around her, she's noticed, but disappears the moment he talks to someone else. "It's just like any other muscle."

"Oh, right." She smiles up at him as he sweeps her onto the dance floor. "I keep forgetting, you're Ozymandias, the smartest, strongest, fastest man in the world." She winces and stumbles, losing the beat.

Adrian narrowly misses stepping on her foot. "And you, my dear, need some dance lessons."

"Somehow missed that growing up."

He holds her tighter against him. Begins waltzing to the music, leading her along. She sees flashes out of the corner of her eyes and knows they're being photographed. Her cheeks begin to warm.

"You're blushing. Why?"

"People are looking at us."

"So? Let them look."

"So? Well. They look at you and see Adrian Veidt, American's golden boy. You're rich and famous. Powerful. Gorgeous. And then they look at me and wonder why you're wasting any time."

He shakes his head. Squeezes her. "You're smart, compassionate, kind. You're out there every day, fighting the fight that I once did."

"You fought criminals."

"And you protect victims."

"It's different."

"Maybe, maybe not."

They dance for a few minutes in silence. All around them are the elite of New York, the politicians and lawyers. The people who sit in their high towers and penthouses, who drive in their limos and fly across the country in their private jets. People who've never starved, never sat in their living room, afraid of the bullets flying outside. Never lived in a box on the street or were forced to used a dog's bed because that's all your parents could afford. Never…

Meg breaks away from Adrian suddenly. "I'm sorry. I just need… I need…"

"Meg?"

But she's running now, across the dance floor. Past the rich and past her coworkers. Out of the banquet room and into the hall. Then bursting through the side doors, into an alley. Into the warm, summer night air.

She braces her hands against the wall. Lowers her head and tries to breathe. Her chest is constricting, heart hurts. She can't breathe, can't think.

"Meg." Adrian's hands are on her. Lowering her to the ground, pushing her head between her legs. "Just calm down. Just breathe." He strokes her back. Rubs circles with the heel of his hand between her shoulder blades.

Meg listens to the sounds of the city: cars on the street. Talking from pedestrians going about their night. Music from inside, people talking, laughing. Clink of glasses and silverware on plates.

"They don't care," she finally says, voice hoarse. "None of them. They don't care about any of it. About the kids or the slums. None of it. They throw money at the problem and look the other way, and none of them actually do anything." She lifts her head. Leans it against the building. "And I'm just… I put a party together so they can come and congratulate each other on how noble they are while getting drunk and eating. Meanwhile, across town, there are kids going to bed in a box, starving."

Adrian sighs. Sits next to her. "They have the money, but not your moral certainty. So what? You take their money and do good with it."

"It's dirty money."

"It's not dirty money. It's money. Just money."

"Spoken like someone who's never gone without."

Adrian looks at her. His eyes are abruptly cold, face stone. "I went without. I starved in the streets. I had to steal to feed myself. I struggled and fought and clawed my way up to where I am. When my parents died, Meg, I gave my fortune away. All this?" He waves his hand. "I created myself."

Meg looks away. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"It's okay." He reaches out and takes her hand. "Sometimes, Meg, in order to do the good you want, you have to be willing to shake a few hands and smile a few people whom you despise. But all you have to do is remember why you are doing it. What the ultimate goal is." He turns her face gently and gazes into her eyes. "Think of Billy, and all the many children out there like him. Think of all the good you can do with the money we're raising tonight. That's all that matters."

She nods. Takes a deep, soothing breath. Exhales slowly. "I know. I just… feel dirty. I don't know."

"The world isn't black and white. Going in there, talking to those people… there's nothing wrong with it. And please. Tell them everything." He smiles charmingly. "I think it would be good for them to hear the reality."

"Maybe I will."

Adrian rises. Holds his hands out. "You know, this moment aside, you're really quite good at this. Mingling with the so-called elites. Talking to them. Getting them to hand over their money."

She puts her hands in his. Allows him to pull her to her feet. "As long as this is it. I'm not sure if I want to do something like this again."

"That would greatly disappoint me, Meg."

"Why?" she asks, frowning.

He kisses her hand. "Never mind. Let's go back inside. We can talk later."

_About what?_ she wonders, allowing him to lead her back inside. It's not like there'll be another one of these fundraisers for the kids any time soon. It'd have to be at least a year from now. And she fully intends to push the planning off on someone else. This isn't what she wants do with her life. As heartbreaking as her job can be, she loves it. Loves working with the kids and feeling as if she's doing something.

This sort of things makes her feel hollow. She worked for weeks putting it all together. Hiring musicians and caterers. Getting out invitations. Decorators and decorating herself. Planning seating charts and parking and a million little details she'd never thought of before beginning this. She'd worked and sweated and planned and pulled it off. It'd been a rush the moment it all came together and she knew it was _finished_. There'd been a sense of accomplishment, but now...

Now, who cared? Tomorrow, it'd be over. These people would go home and go back to their jobs and, eventually, they'd forget until she reminded them again.

But, with her job, it was never over. There was always someone who needed help. Needed her intervention or her ear. Needed her to do something. It was exhausting and she loved every minute of it.

So, yeah, maybe Adrian wants to talk later. Maybe he wants to hire her to do this kind of thing for him; he's said often in the past few weeks that she has a talent for it. And, yes, she has to admit, she does. As hard as it was, she's kind of good at it.

But she doesn't want to do this for a living. No matter what the money or whatever perks Adrian might offer, there's no way Meg is ever going to accept any job that takes her away from what she loves doing most.


	3. Chapter 3

_Rorschach's Journal, July 4, 1985_

_Some of the drug dealers got away. Cleared out hideout. Burned it to ground. Going after rats tomorrow night._

"Teddies!" Billy shouts suddenly, mouth coming abruptly unstuck from the candy apple he's been gnawing at.

Meg turns and game he's pointing at. "You want to try and win one?" she asks, kneeling next to him. From her pocket, she produces a napkin, which she licks and tries to get some of the worst of the stick from his face.

Billy pulls his face away, pushing at her hand. "Meg! No! And, yeah, I want a teddy."

"You might as well give it up as a bad job," Adrian laughs as Meg evades Billy's hand and continues to try and clean his face. "It won't come off until you scrub him down in the bath." He reaches down and picks Billy up, lifting him over his head. "We'll have to do it the old fashion way and scrub you with stones, I'm afraid."

"No!" Billy kicks, shrieking with laughter. His hair is falling over his face and his arms are out on either side. His entire face is screwed up, joy shining from it.

A completely different little boy from the silent, scared waif he'd been a month ago. He's not in any way completely back to where he was the first time Meg met him. He still has panic attacks and security issues. He'll always have issues. But, a month ago, no matter what she'd done, she couldn't get him to smile, much less shriek with laughter.

Now? He's laughing and shrieking and acting like a little kid.

Adrian tucks Billy underneath his arm. Runs his hand through his hair. "Let's go win a teddy bear," he says. He takes Meg by the hand.

It had been his idea that they go to the Fourth of July festival in Central Park. She'd assumed he have somewhere fancy and elegant to go, and she and Billy would watch fireworks from her window and go to bed early. But, Adrian had insisted he wanted to spend the day with them, and, in the end, she'd decided it'd probably be good for Billy to go out and have fun.

But she can't help but wonder what Adrian is up to. What he wants. He already offered her a job that morning, just like she suspected. He offered to put her in charge of creating a segment of Veidt Industries dedicated to improving the lives of underprivileged children. When she tried to give him her answer (no), he insisted she think it over.

And then, invited them out.

Meg is the first to admit that she hasn't the first clue about men or how to deal with them outside of work. So, it's possible she's misreading Adrian. She doesn't know how.

He still doesn't seem sexually interested in her. Even with all the touching and the chaste kisses, she doesn't feel that same panic she does when someone comes at her with sexual intent. And she doesn't think it's because she's attracted to him, because she's not. He's handsome, but she doesn't want to kiss him or anything.

Maybe he just likes being with Billy. He's in his forties. Doesn't have children, at least none that he's admitted to or the press could find. And he obviously likes being around Billy, from all the attention and toys and games. He's read a book to Billy every day, doing different voices for each character and acting things out. He tucks Billy into bed every time they stayed at his penthouse and rooms. Maybe, he's just living the life of a father through Billy.

He could, of course, adopt Billy, but Meg doesn't want to think about that. A super-wealthy adoptive parent would win over an overworked, underpaid adoptive parent any day. Meg doesn't want to think of what she'll do if she loses Billy.

"All right," Adrian says, plopping Billy onto the counter of the game. "This young man will like a dollar's worth." He hands the money over.

The teenager running the booth hands over the balls. Billy picks up the first one; his throw is wild.

"Let me show you." Adrian patiently shows Billy how to hold the ball and how to move his arm. Together, they aim.

They do look good together, Meg can't help but think. She smiles, watching Adrian talk Billy through his third throw. At the serious expression on Billy's face. The totally adoration in his eyes as he gazes at Adrian.

Adrian glances over at her. Smiles and gives her a wink. She grins back.

The next throw, Billy knocks down the milk cans.

"I did it!" he screams. He jumps up and down, clapping his hands.

"And the young man won himself a teddy bear." The teenager hands the bear to Billy.

"Meg!" Billy throws himself at her, teddy clutched in his arms. "I gotta bear!"

"Congratulations." She kisses him on the forehead, and wonders how he got sticky in his hair. "I'm jealous."

Billy's brow furrows. "You want it?"

"That's your bear. You won it. You keep it."

"But…"

"Don't worry. I'll win her one." Adrian hands money over again. Picks up the baseballs.

Three throws. Three sets of milk cans down.

"And the gentleman wins a bear." This bear was a lot bigger than the one Billy won.

Adrian takes it and hands it to Meg. "For the beautiful lady," Adrian says with a bow.

She rolls her eyes and takes it. "Thank you, sir."

"Can we go on rides now?" Billy asks, clutching his bear tightly. He doesn't seem to care that Meg's is bigger. All he cares is that he got his bear.

Adrian takes Billy's hand and then Meg in the other. "Let's go ride some rides."

They do the Ferris Wheel, the carousel, the bumper cars. They eat cotton candy and corn dogs (not Adrian, but he buys for them). They play more games and win more prizes. When Billy starts getting tired, they find a place to watch fireworks.

Despite the noise and the music and the talking all around, Meg somehow drifts off during the fireworks. She can still hear them, hear everything around her, but it's all so far away. She sits there, leaning against Adrian, Billy draped across the two of them, Adrian's arm around her, drifting away. She's comfortable and safe and, for the moment, the world was good.

"Meg," Adrian whispers as the show begins to reach is crescendo.

She blinks. Opens her eyes. "Yeah?"

He smiles at her. Gives her a little shake. "You all right?"

"Yeah." She rubs her eyes and blinks a few times.

"Good." His lips brush over her hair. "I'm going out of town tomorrow. Down to Antarctica for work. I should be back sometime next week."

"Oh." It'll be weird, not seeing him every day. This past month has been so insane. He's been a constant fixture of it, just as much as Billy.

"I would like to see you when I come back. Maybe take you to dinner?"

She sits up. "Like on a date?"

He looks at her out of those amazing blue-green eyes. Gives a small shake of his head. "Not a date. Friends going out together for a pleasant evening. If you think Billy will be okay."

She licks her lips. Thinks a moment, then nods. "Yeah. I'd like that."

Adrian smiles. "It's a… friends going out together for a pleasant evening, then."

Meg laughs. Rolls her eyes. "Yeah. It's a date."

_Meg's Journal, July 8, 1985_

_Back to real life. Billy is going to preschool all day. We talk on the phone at snack. _ _I pick him up at lunch and eat with him, then take him back. I can't stay late at work like I used to because of him, but I don't mind._

_I got him a bed. A really small one. We put it in the corner of the room and its blocked off with a sheet. I'm going to sell my bed and get something smaller. Maybe. I also might look for a new place._

_I've seen Rorschach a few times on the street. Billy and I always stop and talk for a bit. Billy wants to hold his sign. I think Rorschach seems amused, but I'm not sure. It's hard to tell with him._

_He's left me a few notes like he used to. He's been taking down some drug ring. At last count, he's taken down all but three of the major players. In his last note, he said something about them multiplying like maggots or something. I hope he crushes them all._

A crash in the bathroom wakes her. She rubs the corner of her eyes, sliding out of bed before she's really awake. The baseball bat is in her hands, ready, but she knows what she's going to find.

Until she finds it.

"Rorschach! Shit!" She drops the bat. Rushes in.

His shirt is soaked with blood. Blood drips off his leather gloves, from under his mask. His hat is off and there's blood staining the mask on top of his head.

The worst, though, is his side. There's a concentrated bloom of crimson that flowers out over the rest of his shirt. He has one hand pressed against it as he digs through the medicine cabinet with the other.

"What happened?" Meg demands. She drops the bat and enters the room. Putting a hand on his shoulder, she gently maneuvers him away from the medicine cabinet. "Sit. I'll do it."

Rorschach stumbles back. When his legs hit the toilet, he falls onto the lid. Once he's sitting, Meg crouches in front of the sink and opens the cabinet drawers. Her first aid kit, recently restocked after Billy moved in, is underneath.

Meg moves, kneeling in front of Rorschach, opens it. "What happened?" she asks again.

"Guy had knife. Missed."

"He missed?"

"I missed."

She nods. Pulls out a wad of gauze and presses it against the wound. "Holds this."

He puts his gloved hands over the gauze.

"Has this ever happened before?" she asks as she digs through the bag, looking for antiseptic.

"Yes."

"What do you usually do?"

"Go to Daniel. Take care of myself."

She finds the antiseptic. Soaks another pad of gauze with it. "Okay. Move."

Rorschach flinches very slightly when she pressed the wet gauze against the wound. Other than that, he doesn't react.

"Who's Daniel?"

"Old friend. Partner."

She nods. "Why'd you come here?"

"Closer."

"Okay, hold it again. Lots of pressure."

He presses his gauze back onto the wound.

Meg tosses the wet gauze away. Begins digging through the first aid kit. "Do you think it needs stitches?"

"Can do without. Get later if needed."

She looks up. "Have you ever given yourself stitches?"

He nods.

"Nice. Okay. You're going to need to take off your coat and shirt. There's just too much in the way for me to get the bandage secure."

He looks at her for a long time. The gauze grows crimson as he does. Meg just stares back at him, waiting. Watching.

Finally, he nods.

Meg reaches out and puts pressure on the gauze. Rorschach lets go, then peels his coat off, followed by his hat, gloves, and shirt. She tries not to react when she sees the bruises and cuts that mar his skin. He's spotted and bloody and scratched. It's not all fresh, either; there's a lot of scars and scabs. Evidence of a hard life.

He's wearing an undershirt under his clothes, which he keeps on. He pulls it up, though, enough for her to have easy access to the wound. The mask stays on.

Once he's ready, Meg picks up another patch of gauze. She replaces the bloody gauze with the new, then tells him to hold. She grabs some tape and begins securing it down.

"Meg?"

Meg bites her tongue so she doesn't swear. "Billy, baby, go back to bed." She glances over her shoulder to see him in the door, holding his teddy.

"What's going on?" he asks.

"Rorschach's hurt, so I'm fixing it. You remember him, right? He helped me… get you out of that house?"

Billy's lower lip protrudes. He nods.

"Everything's fine, honey. Really. I'm sorry we woke you."

Billy blinks a few times. "You really okay?" he asks, eyes on Rorschach.

Meg's glad the worst of the blood's been cleaned away, although there's still some on the sink and the floor and her hands. Still. It's not as bad as it could be.

Rorschach doesn't answer. He's looking at Billy, head cocked to one side.

Meg nudges him. "You're okay, right?" she says, voice hard.

His head jerks. "Fine." He glances down at Meg, then back to Billy. "All better now. Go to bed."

"Adrian has a doll of you," Billy says.

Rorschach looks back at Meg, who shrugs. "Oh."

Billy rubs his eyes. Yawns. "Meg, can we have pancakes tomorrow?"

"Sure, honey. If you go to bed."

"G'night." With the promise of pancakes, Billy turns around and goes back to his bed.

Meg finishes wrapping the bandage around Rorschach. Then she sits back on her ankles. "All right. So. Do you need anything for the pain?" She rises and goes to the sink.

"No pain."

She raises an eyebrow. Looks at him over her shoulder, washing her hands. "No pain. You look like you've been mauled."

"Fight. I won."

"You don't look it."

"Don't look as bad as them."

She laughs. "Probably not." She turns off the water. Crouches in front of Rorschach again and digs through her first aid kit for cotton. "Let me clean some of those other cuts."

He says nothing. Sits there as she cleans the cuts and scratches on his arms and his neck. There aren't many, and she assumes it's because his clothing protects him from the worst damage. He's got a lot of bruises, though, including a huge, painful looking one right next to his left shoulder blade and running down his back.

"What happened here?" she asks, pulling his shirt aside so she can get a better look.

"Pipe."

Meg clucks her tongue in sympathy. "I think you should put some ice on it to get the swelling down. Maybe you should lie down for a bit."

"No. Fine now." Rorschach rises and steps away from her. "Just leav... ing..."

Meg darts forward just in time to catch him, keeping him from slamming his head against the sink.

"Rorschach?" she says, worriedly. She shifts around so she's in front of him, holding his weight more easily. He's a lot heavier than she thought he'd be, but he's tight-packed muscles, so it makes sense.

When there's no response, she shakes him slightly. "Rorschach?"

Still nothing.

"Damn."

Very carefully, she begins dragging him out of the bathroom. It's too hard with him leaning against her neck, she soon realizes. With a frustrated sigh, she bends her knees, lowering them both to the floor. Once she's got Rorschach stretched out, she rolls him over. There's barely enough room in the bathroom doorway to do this, but she manages. Once he's lying on his back, she slips her hands under his arms, gripping him around his armpits.

It's a lot easier this time. She's able to drag him across the room, deadweight though he is. She gets him to the bed, dragging him over clothes and toys Billy and she have strewn around.

"Meg?" Billy sticks his head out from his curtained room.

"Billy. Hey," she pants. "Everything's fine."

"Is Rorschach all right?"

"He's not feeling well. He's sleeping." She sits on the bed. Again, very gently, she rolls Rorschach face down. Grabbing him by the belt, she tugs. Her heart is pounding from the exertion. She can barely catch her breath.

Billy comes out and takes one of Rorschach's legs. Face screwing up in concentration, he pushes. Makes little grunting sounds as he does.

Together, they get Rorschach on the bed and onto his back. Once he's there, Meg flops down on what little space there's left. Between the unexpected exercise and the heat of the night, she's sweating profusely.

"Thank you, Billy," she breathes. She wipes her hands over her face. Sits up. "Now will you go to bed?"

Billy sticks his thumb in his mouth. Turns and goes back into his "room." The curtain is pulled shut a moment later.

Meg pushes herself up. Crawl over to Rorschach and looks down at him. She can't tell anything with the mask on. She knows he's unconscious and bleeding and hurt, but… the mask is obscuring too much. The dark spots have almost stopped moving, and she's not sure if he's unconscious from the blood loss or a blow to the head.

She has to take it off. And it's not as if she's never seen what's underneath. It's fine. It'll be fine.

Her heart picks up speed. She bends over his unconscious form. Slips her fingers underneath the mask and begins to pull it upward.

She's just got it over his nose when Rorschach's hands fly up. Clamp like steel over her wrists.

"Rorschach," she gasps. He's strong, even hurt. She can feel her bones creaking under his grip.

"What are you doing?" he asks through gritted teeth, all throat and spit.

She's shaking, terrified. "You're, uh… face. I need to check your head. And…"

His grip loosens. Whole body goes slack.

Meg sighs in relief. Carefully, she removes her wrists from his grasp. She finishes sliding the mask from his face. Sets it on the table next to her. She then moves to his feet and unties his shoes.

"Ug." She grimaces at the smell. Breathes through her mouth to offset it.

She loves pillows, so there are a million of them all around the apartment. She gets a few and slides them under his feet. Then she gets her winter blankets from the closet and covers him.

His face is bruised and battered. One eye is black. His lower lip is cut and puffy. There's a dark purple spot next to his ear.

Meg sighs. Puts her hand on his forehead. His skin is cool to the touch. Slightly clammy.

She sighs again. Pulls the covers higher around him, tucking him in. Then, figuring that will hold him for the night, she climbs off the bed. Goes into Billy's little room.

"Billy?" she whispers, crouching next to the bed.

He opens his eyes. "Yes?" he mumbles sleepily around his thumb.

"Can I stay with you tonight?"

He nods.

Meg yawns as she climbs in bed behind him. Snuggles against him. Sleep is a long time coming. She spends most of the night listening to Billy's soft inhales. To Rorschach's harsher, near snores. Wondering what's going to happen.

The sun is just rising, peeking through the curtains in her bedroom, in the crack between the sheets around Billy's bed, when Meg finally drifts off to an uneasy sleep.

i_Meg's Journal, July 9, 1985_

_Rorschach's still asleep on my bed. I can't tell if he woke up at all. He's rolled onto his side and pulled the covers around him. I wasn't able to check his stab wound, but he's warmer than last night. Checked his pulse; it was normal. I guess._

_Neither Billy nor I got much sleep last night, so I kept us both home. He's watching cartoons. I'm trying to do work. Failing._

_What's he going to do when he wakes up? For all I know, he's going kill me. I took off his face. I saw him pass out._

_I should take Billy and run. Adrian gave me a key to his penthouse; never took it back. We could go there._

_Never said I was smart./i_

Around noon, she finally gets the courage to wake him up. She's made soup, which she takes in with her, along with some juice.

Rorschach is sprawled across the bed on his back. One leg hangs off, toes poking through holes in his socks. He's snoring, mouth open, drool collected in the corner.

He's pale, but not grey like the night before. His bruises stand out lividly, dark and ugly looking.

Meg sets the bowl of soup and juice on the nightstand. Tentative, she puts her hand on Rorschach's shoulder.

"Rorschach." She shakes him gently. "Rorschach? Wake up."

A couple shakes later and he snaps awake. His eyes fly open, startled. Fierce. He doesn't seem to see her as he pushes himself up.

The moment he's up, he kind of sways. Starts pitching forward, catching himself on his hands.

"Go slowly," Meg says. "You passed out last night. Been out for almost ten hours."

His eyes narrow into slits. One hand comes up to rub at them. He lifts his head and squints at her. Clears his throat a few times. "Time?"

"About noon."

He nods. Rubs his eyes again. Then he rolls out of bed. Avoids her and shuffles to the bathroom.

Meg stands there a couple seconds, wringing her hands and watching the door. Then, she decides he doesn't need her. She moves his freshly washed shirt (she'd already had a load to do anyway) from the dresser to the bed, then goes back into the living room. She closes the bedroom door behind her, just in case.

It's about fifteen minutes before he emerges. He's wearing his slacks and shirt, missing his coat and hat. In his hands is the bowl of soup, which he's slurping.

"Boy's home," he says, nodding at the boy sleeping, head in her lap.

"He didn't sleep much last night." She strokes his hair. "How's the stab wound?"

"Fine." He slurps down the rest of the soup. "Not bleeding anymore. Changed bandage."

"Good." She shifts, looking away. "Sorry about taking off… your, uh. Face. But I wanted to make sure you didn't have any bleeding head wounds. And I, uh. It just doesn't seem the most comfortable thing to sleep in."

"Don't. Not usually." He sets the bowl aside. "Only you know."

"Know what?"

"This." He touches his face.

Her eyes widened. "I'm not going to tell anyone."

"Trust you. Don't know why. You're a woman."

She rolls her eyes. "I guess. So, do you just not like women, or do you not like anyone?"

"Human race is disaster. Women are whores."

Meg flushes. Looks away. "Men can be, too. It's not a trait that applies exclusively to women."

"Hurm."

She gets up and goes to the kitchen. Crackers are still out from Billy's snack earlier. She brings them and the jar of peanut butter to the table. Sets it down and sits across from him. "There are plenty of men who sell themselves out for money or fame. Even love."

He raises a shoulder. "Guess. Men like Veidt."

Meg uncaps the peanut butter and slathers some onto a cracker. "Well. Yeah, I guess you can say that."

"Retired two years before Keene act. Turned name into company. Money, commercials. Uses it and self for what? To get more money and fame."

"Sometimes he does some good," she pointed out dryly.

"Was doing good before without having to sell name and image."

"Eh." Meg shrugs. "He was never like you. You work in the shadows and take off before anyone can give you fame. You were never in it for fame. Adrian... I mean, I'm sure he wanted to do good. I know he got into it because he knew there was a lot of good he could do. But. Well." She licks some peanut butter from the cracker. "I've seen pictures and articles about him back in the height of his Ozymandias days. He never seemed to mind the attention he got. He used it to help his cause, but... I think, a very small part of him, liked getting the attention."

Rorschach doesn't answer. He takes a cracker and dips it messily into the peanut butter, scooping a huge glob of it out. He raises it to his mouth. "Spend a lot of time with him."

"He's really nice to Billy," she answers, feeling the sting that she assumes his words intended. She rubs her hand over her heart. "I think that his attention has really helped Billy kind of... transition. He's never going to be better. Never going to be fixed after what happened to him. But he needs to remember what it's like to be a kid. To feel that the world is safe for him. Adrian does that."

Rorschach glances over at Billy, who's still conked out on the couch. "World's not safe. Never safe."

"He's too young to live with that."

"Never too young." Rorschach rolls his eyes back to her. One eyebrow raises.

Her licks her lips. Tastes peanut butter clinging to them. "He is. I'm sure you were too young when whatever happened to you happened."

He doesn't take the bait. Gives her a look of disdain and shoves the cracker into his mouth.

Meg sighs. Picks up another cracker. "Adrian wants me to work for him. To create a arm of his company dedicated to making the lives of underprivileged kids better. It's a great idea, for someone else. I can't." Her fingers tighten on the cracker, breaking it in two. "He wants to make a school. Scholarships. Camps. After school activities. A homeless shelter. All these different things, and it's great, really. But even with all his money and power, he can't do what I think is the most important part. He can't have people report to him children than are being hurt. Can't go in and take kids from their homes, or work with parents to make the homes better." She drops the cracker. Rubs crumbs from her fingers, then raises her hands to her eyes, rubbing them. "Nine times out of ten, I fail. I can't get the evidence to get the kids out. I think the parents are going to change, only to find out that they've fallen back into old habits. Bad things happen and I'm too weak." Tears try to rise, but she fights them back. Her throat aches fiercely with the effort. "But I have to keep fighting. Anything else would be giving up."

"Compromise."

She shakes her head. "Never."

His hand comes out. Clumsily pushes her chin up so she looks at him.

He leans closer. "Veidt's job a compromise. Don't take it."

"I won't." Her heart beats rapidly. Again, she finds her eyes drawn to his mouth and away again. A flush builds up in her cheeks.

He looks at her another moment. Piercing eyes study her face as if memorizing. Dissecting. Seeing inside her.

"You do your fight," he finally says. "I'll do mine."

Her mouth quirks up at the corner. "And maybe we'll change humanity. Save the kids, save the world."

His mouth copies hers. On anyone else, the expression on his face would look flat. Unemotional. On him, it was positively wry. "At least exact some justice."

"Yeah. I guess."

Rorschach nods, head rising and falling once. His thumb brushes, very lightly, like a feather, over her lips. Then he stands. Walks back to the bedroom. When he comes back out, he's carrying his coat under his arm.

He stops at the front door. Turns back and looks at her. He gives her one more nod, then opens the door and walks away.

i_Meg's Journal, August 1, 1985_

_I've got to find a new place and now. A supervisor reviewed Billy's case and said that since he's responding well to therapy, he's ready to be placed in a new foster home. I told him that I was hoping to keep Billy, to apply for adoption. I've been given three weeks to find a place with a separate bedroom for Billy._

_Because finding an apartment in New York city will be a snap./i_

"There's a perfectly nice apartment in the same building as my penthouse," Adrian says as he follows Meg into the millionth apartment building that day. "I can help you negotiate a reasonable rent. I can buy the building and wave your rent."

"For a former superhero, you sure do complain a lot," Meg responds. She stops inside the lobby and pulls a newspaper from her pocket. Checks over the ad, looking for the

Adrian puts his hand on her shoulder. "I want you and Billy safe."

"This place looks safe." She looks around the slightly run down lobby. There was a row of mailboxes against one wall. An elevator. Stairs. Everything in a kind of dreary brown and tan, but she was used to that. The tiles were a little scuffed, but it smelled clean, like floor wax.

"During the day, everything looks safe."

"It's in a better neighborhood than I'm living at now."

"Yes, but…" He stops. Gives her a tight smile. "Yes, I suppose you're right." He squeezed her shoulder. "I just wish you'd take the job I'm offering. I'd pay you enough to live in the best neighborhood. Buy the best apartment and send Billy to the best school."

Meg runs her hand through her hair. "Adrian. I love my job. I told you I'd be happy to help whoever you hire as a consultant. That I think it's a great idea. But I want to stay where I am." She takes his hand and squeezes. "Come on. I think the landlord is this way."

"You are so incredibly stubborn."

"It's part of my charm."

He says something too low for her to hear, but squeezes her hand.

They find the landlord's office. Meg knocks on the door. "Hello?"

"One second!" A few seconds later, the door opens. A tall, handsome man with hair so brown it's almost black and startling ice blue eyes stands in the doorway. His gaze goes right passed Meg and lands squarely on Adrian. And lights up like a Christmas tree. "Adrian! Never thought I'd see you in a dump like this." He pushes past Meg.

Adrian's got a kind of strained expression on his face. He drops Meg's hand and accepts the embrace from the other man. When the guy goes in for a kiss, though, Adrian turns his head, forcing it to land on his cheek. Then he untangles himself. "Richard. Good to see you." He steps back to Meg. Puts a hand on her shoulder.

"What are you doing here?" He still doesn't seem to notice Meg standing there.

"I am helping my friend find an apartment." His accent is really think, making his words sound a little slurred.

Meg looks back at him, concerned.

"Oh. Oh, yeah, I've got an apartment. First floor." Richard looks at Meg. His forehead furrows and he looks from her to Adrian. "Uh. Wanna take a look?"

"Sure." She gives him a smile, intrigued by what's going on between Adrian and this guy. At how Adrian, who never seems to have a hair out of place, suddenly seems flustered beyond belief.

"So, it's a two bedroom, one bath. Kitchen, view of the street. We've got washer and dryers in the basement. Night guard who patrols the floor. It's nice," Richard says as he leads them to the apartment.

"Any kids in the building?" Meg asks. "I've got a little boy."

Richard glances at Adrian, confusion on his face. "Yeah, there's a few kids. So. How do you two know each other?"

"Work," Adrian says. "I helped her put a fundraiser together to benefit the New York Department of Social Services. We've become good friends."

"Your friends have changed since the last time we hung out." Richard gives him a grin Meg can only describe as lascivious.

"My tastes perhaps have improved."

Richard's face falls. He stops in front of a door and unlocks it. "This is it. Take a look around. I'll be in the office when you're done."

"Thanks," Meg says. She steps inside.

It's a lot bigger than her current apartment. There's enough room for her to turn one corner into a home office and give Billy the rest as a playroom. She crosses it and finds the hall, leading to the bedrooms. The smaller one is cozy, with one window high with a view of the street. The master was right next to it with a slightly bigger window. Bathroom across from the bedrooms. Carpeted floors. Bathroom free of mildew. Kitchen okay.

Adrian's still in the living room. Meg comes back to him. Stops in front of him and crosses her arms over her chest.

"Well, I can't live here now."

"Good. But, what's wrong with it?"

"You pissed off the landlord. You told him I was a better friend than he was. You hurt him, Adrian."

He brushes it away. "He'll be fine. I haven't seen him in years. It's not like we were ever close."

"So, what? Was he your boyfriend or something?"

Wide green eyes snap to her face. For the first time in their acquaintance, she's finally managed to shock him.

It's kind of a nice feeling.

"What? You don't think I figured out you're gay? I'm not stupid."

"But you're not very perceptive when it comes to sexuality," he replies. "You haven't the first clue about your own."

"What do you mean?"

"Have you ever had sex?"

She blushes. Looks away. "No."

"Ever wanted to have sex?"

This time she shrugs. "I don't… I don't know. Never with anyone I've ever met. But I'm sure that, I don't know. Maybe." She looks at him. "Why?"

"I don't know. I'm making a point, perhaps." He walks away from her, towards a window. Looks out of it. "You're right. In my sexual life, I prefer men over women. Richard and I met earlier this year. We had a liaison. That was all." He turns.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"It didn't matter. It doesn't matter, does it?"

She shrugs. "I don't know. I don't really care. As long as people don't but me about it, I don't care what they do with other people. And, you're right. It's not any of my business. Just, um." She licks her lips. "Sometimes the attention you give me feels… I don't know. Different. Not just like a friend. But, um. I don't know. I never thought you were, you know. Interested in me. Like that." She knew her face must be bright red. She was hot and embarrassed.

Adrian steps closer to her. "My interest in you is more than that of a friend."

"What?" She steps back, confused.

"Meg," he starts, taking a breath like he wants to say something. Then he stops. Shakes his head. "You must know I adore you. I love you. Not as a lover and, no, I'm not sexually interested in you. But you and Billy are very important to me."

Meg pushes hair from her face. "You're important to us, too. And I love you."

Adrian crosses the room. Takes her by the shoulders and kisses her forehead. "I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable."

"No." She looks up at him. "But it's too bad about the apartment."

He laughs. "Let's find another, then. The day is young. And, with any luck, I won't insult the next landlord."

She narrows her eyes at him. "You're not doing it on purpose, are you? To make me move into that apartment in your building?"

"Meg, I can't believe you would accuse me, Adrian Veidt, Ozymandias, hero of the world, of something so underhanded and lower. I'm not a villain."

"Of course not. Please forgive me." She slips her arm around his waist. Leans against him as they turn to leave. "You don't think that there's anything wrong with me, do you? Not being interested in sex?"

He kisses her on top of the head. Squeezes her. "No, Meg. In fact, I think that it's part of your charm. And I'm sure I'm not the only one."


	4. Chapter 4

_Meg's Journal, August 13, 1985_

_Apartment lease has been signed, much to Adrian's chagrin. I think it's a great place. Ground floor, has a pocket sized yard with a patch of grass and a small segment of dirt with flowers in it. Two bedrooms, nice living room. Kitchen that's clean and modern. I love the bathroom. _

_I'm going to start the process for adopting Billy after we're moved. He's been helping me pack. Adrian's been reading with him every night we get together. Billy's actually picking up words now. His therapist says he's adjusting very well and should be ready to go to therapy sessions every two weeks or so._

_Haven't seen Rorschach for awhile. Well. I've seen him lurking on street corners, so I know he's okay. He did drop some money off one night. Maybe from the drug dealers? I don't know._

_I miss him._

"Hi, Noel. Good to see you today," Meg says, giving the sullen face teen sitting across from her a smile. "How are you?"

Noel rolls his eyes. He's slouched in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. His hair is long, but pulled back tightly in a bun on the top of his head. A knot.

Meg tries to hold back her sign. Instead, she opens the file in front of her. "Okay, so according to the notes from your group home, it looks like you've been having some trouble. Getting into fights, breaking curfew. Breaking dress code, displaying gang affiliation. Stealing." She looks up. "What's going on, Noel?"

"Nothing."

"Dr. Howard says you won't talk to him. You know, he's a very good psychologist. If you would open up…

"Oh, shut up, bitch."

"Noel," Meg says sharply.

"Oh, don't even start acting like you give a shit about me. You just dragged me in here because I'm messing up the stupid peace or whatever in the stupid group home. Who cares? I'm gonna be kicked out in three months. Why don't you just kick me out now?"

Sympathy wells in her. She closes the file. Puts her arms on the table and leans forward. "Look, I know it's scary, being faced with it. And, believe me, I know the system is screwed up. Eighteen is a number, and all the sudden, it must feel like a sentence. But you can be okay. I'm here to help you."

"Your job ends on my eighteenth birthday.

"But that doesn't mean I can't help you before then. And even after. I'm willing to lend a hand. Help you get a job, find a place to live. Get set up in school, and…"

Noel shakes his head. "Don't. I already gots someone to help me."

"The Knot Tops?" Meg guesses. "Do you really think they'll help you?"

"Yeah. It's like a family. They take care of their own."

"And they get you killed. Every night, they're out there. Fighting, stealing. Those who manage not to die are lucky to end up in jail. Noel, they'll…"

"Better than starving on the streets."

"That's not going to happen. Look, you're a smart guy, and…"

With a scream of rage, Noel shoots out of his seat. He knocks the table aside so it crashes against the wall.

Meg jumps to her feet. Backs up, hands out. "Noel, don't…"

"Don't tell me that I'm a smart guy!" he shouts. He smacks her across the face, hard enough to make her stumble. "Stop telling me these fucking lies, lady. My parents dump me, the state pushes me into a fucking group home with cracks in the windows and rats on the walls. And you're gonna give me this bullshit?" He grabs her by the neck, huge hands wrapped around. Lifts her off the ground and shoves her against the wall.

"Help!" Meg shouts, kicking and clawing at him.

He grabs her hair. Slams her head against the wall.

The world swims. "Noel. You need to calm…"

His fist connects with her nose. She hears the crunch. Feels the blood.

The room floods with voices. Shouts. Noel is pulled away from her. Meg falls to the floor. Noel kicks, fighting his attackers. His boot connects with the side of her head.

That's the last she knows.

_Rorschach's Journal, August 13, 1985_

_Girl was in newspaper. Front page because of connection with Veidt. Beat up while meeting with client. In hospital. Attacker in custody. Can't exact punishment until released. Frustrating._

_Told her her way didn't work. They take and take and bite the hand that feeds._

She opens her eyes and has to immediately close them again. The room is bright. The light sears them. She tries to reach out to the nightlight on the bed to turn it off, but her arm gets tangled. Stuck.

"Meg?" Adrian's voice. He takes her hand. Holds it. Strokes her head with the other. "Are you awake?"

"Yeah," she says. The word sticks in her throat. She swallows, trying to work moisture back in. "Light. Hurts."

"Hold on." His footsteps sound on the floor, which is odd. Her floor is carpeted.

The thought floats away. She can't seem to concentrate. Her head hurts, like a meat cleaver splitting through her skull. Her chest hurts and it's hard to breathe.

There's a _snick_.

"There. Light's off. The doctor's on his way."

She forces her eyes open. The lashes feel gummed together. "Doctor?"

"Do you remember what happened?" He comes back over to the bed. Sits on the edge and takes her hand again.

She tries to remember. She's in the hospital, oxygen tube in her nose, IV in her arm. Machines beeping and sticky pads on her chest. Scratchy sheets and antiseptic smell.

"No. I don't remember. What happened?" Then, even more worrisome, "Where's Billy?"

Adrian smiles and kind of rolls his eyes. "Billy's fine. Alexi has him right now. I'm going to take him home tonight. The doctor said that, more than likely, you'll be able to go home sometime tomorrow." He cups her cheek, touch feather light. "You'll stay with me." He says it like a statement, but his eyebrows go up the way they always do when he's asking a question.

"What happened?"

He sighs. "You were attacked while meeting with a client. Noel Fisher. He slammed you against the wall, hit you."

"I'm thirsty."

Adrian lets go of her hand. He picks up a plastic cup from a tray next to the bed and pours some water into it. "You look like a raccoon," he says. He puts a straw in the cup.

Meg sips at the water. It flows over her cracked lips and desert tongue. It doesn't seem to help. She keeps sucking, trying to get rid of the vast dryness, but it won't help.

She finally releases the straw, panting for breath. "Why can't I breathe through my nose?"

"The doctor thinks it's broken, but he can't say for sure. It's very swollen. It wouldn't stop bleeding, so it's stuffed with gauze."

She closes her eyes. She should feel something. Should be upset or scared or something. But she can't. She's just… numb. Tired and overwhelmed.

The door opens. "Mr. Veidt."

"Doctor. She's awake."

"Ah, good. Miss Walker. How do you feel?"

Meg opens her eyes as her wrist is lifted. An older man, bald, kind of portly, wearing heavy glasses and a lab coat, is taking her pulse.

"I don't know," she tells him.

He gives her a false smile. "That happens a lot after an attack like this. How's your head?"

"Hurts. And my eyes. And nose. And chest."

He nods. Takes out a stethoscope and places it on her chest. "Deep breath?"

Meg tries, but a sharp pain makes her cough it out. Her eyes well up, which makes her eyeballs sting.

"Sorry about that," the doctor says. "You might have a broken rib. We weren't able to take X-Rays, earlier; we were more concerned with making sure there was no bleeding in your brain. We'll do it tomorrow, but I'll have a nurse come in and wrap your ribs so you can lie more comfortably. Other than that, we'll keep you here and part of tomorrow for observation and then see if you can be released."

"I'm thirsty. I hate breathing through my nose." She licks her lips. They feel sticky and dry. "Is there any way you can take the gauze out?"

He shakes his head. "Not tonight. I'm sorry. The bleeding was too severe, and your nose is so swollen, it will be too painful. Maybe we can take it out tomorrow. Just keep drinking plenty of liquids, water, juice. It'll be a miserable night, I'm afraid, even with drugs for the pain. " He looks at Adrian. "We'll make sure she gets the best care, Mr. Veidt. You have my word on that."

Adrian gives him a flat and very sardonic smile. "I'm so relieved to hear that you'll do your job, Doctor." He crosses the room and stands by the window, arms crossed over his chest. The lights from the street hit his hair, making it glow with a kind of halo effect. Haloed hair, face in the shadows. He looks ominous.

The doctor shifts, obviously uncomfortable. He looks down at Meg, then back up at Adrian. Gives him a wan smile. "Um." He clears his throat. "Of course. I, uh… Sir. Miss." He turns and leaves.

Meg rolls her head on the pillow, looking at Adrian. "That was mean."

"It bothers me to know that they'll only go above and beyond for you because of me," he replies. He turns and opens the window. Walks back to the bed and sits on it. "Every person who walks through the front doors deserves the same level of care, no matter their fame, fortune, or connection."

"That's not the way the world works."

"It should be." He reaches out. Strokes strands of hair away from Meg's forehead. "In a perfect world, it will be."

She gives him a half smile. "Will be?"

"I hold out hope that something will bring change to the misery around us." He sighs. Leans forward and kisses her lightly on the forehead. "I'll hold off anyone coming in for ten minutes, but I can't promise any more than that." He smoothes her hair back again, then rises.

"What? What are you talking about?" She sits up, watching him walk away. "Where are you going?"

Adrian stops, hand on the doorknob. He looks at her, then past her, at the window.

Meg follows his gaze. Her breath catches. "Rorschach?"

She hears the door close, but it doesn't really register. Her attention is focused on the man in the shadows.

"What are you doing here?" she asks after an eternity has passed.

One shoulder hitches. "Heard you were hurt."

Her mouth quirks at the corner. She rubs the back of her neck. "You knew before me, then. I only just found out." She sighs, dropping her hand. Falling back to the bed. "I can't remember what happened."

He comes closer to the bed. "Hit your head?"

"Yeah, I guess. I remember sitting down with the client. Talking with him. But not much else." Her eyes start stinging again. Head pounds with the pressure of the tears. "You came to see me?"

Rorschach stops by the edge of the bed. His head cocks to the side. He studies her like he's not sure what to say.

"Sorry. Sorry." She wipes at her eyes with the edge of the blanket. "I don't…" More tears come. They hurt and everything hurts. And she can't breathe because of the packing in her nose, and it's all awful. "I'm sorry I'm not stronger."

He comes up to the head of the bed. Reaches out, then pulls back quickly. She hears him take a breath. And then his hand is on her head. He pets her hair, awkwardly, but still. "Strong enough."

"I'm not. A stupid kid beats me up and I can't do anything to stop him. I can't stop my kids from getting sent to homes where they're not safe. I can't keep myself safe. God know how I'm ever going to take care of Billy. I'm tired and now I'm scared."

"I protect you."

She closes her eyes. Tears cascade down her cheeks. "I know. Thank you. But those times when you're not around, I should be able to take care of myself. I'm an adult woman."

"Small."

"I know." She leans against his hand. Takes comfort in his presence. Body heat.

Rorschach's hand stills. He keeps it against her head, his fingers moving He sighs. "Veidt wrote book. About making self stronger. More efficient."

"A book's not going to help me."

"Veidt can."

She pulls away. Takes his hand from her hair and holds it. "You could teach me to fight. Defend myself."

The spots on his face pick up speed. They position themselves so he looks surprised. "Not sure that's a good idea."

"Why not? We're friends. I trust you."

"Not exactly good teacher."

She lays back against the bed. Closes her eyes. "You're probably right. Just, Adrian's so busy these days. He's got that project with Dr. Manhattan he's working on. From what I understand, they're getting closer to whatever they're trying to do. He's too busy to do teach me self defense or whatever."

"Not too busy to be here."

"I guess not."

"Or help you find apartment. Or take boy to park. Dinner with you. Movies. Ice cream."

"Okay, I get it." She looks at him, eyebrow raised. "What? Are you jealous?"

He tries to pull his hand away.

"Sorry." Meg tightens her grip on it. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

He doesn't respond, but he lets her keep his hand.

Meg turns it over in her lap. Traces her fingers over the well worn leather, feeling it under her fingertips. "This kid who hurt me. Don't kill him."

Rorschach's right shoulder jerks back. Surprise. Some anger.

"I know. I know, criminals must be punished. But we're the criminals here. The system. He's been with us for three years. His family's gone, he's got no one. In a few months, he turns eighteen and the state is just going to dump him out on the street." She shrugs. "No money, no insurance. No guarantee of a job. And he's scared, so he's turned to the Knot Tops. It's us and it's them and this kid is trapped in between."

"Shouldn't have hurt you. No excuse."

She wipes a tear away. "So. Scare him. Beat him up, growl at him, menace him. Warn the Knot Tops from getting too close to my kids. But there's got to be other ways to deal with, um, Noel." She licks her lower lip. "Maybe Adrian's idea about setting up a scholarship and whatever." She yawns. "Maybe it'd be a good thing for kids like him." She yawns again. "I was always going to help out. It's a good idea."

"Not quitting your job?"

"No. I'll keep my job. Just, I'll consult with whoever Adrian hires. Or something." Her eyes feel heavy. She closes them. Shifts on the bed, moving closer to Rorschach.

The hand not held in hers comes to rest on Meg's head. His thumb rubs over her forehead. "Don't see him again."

She opens her eyes again. "Who? Noel?"

He nods.

"I won't. Even if I wasn't scared to see him again, I doubt my bosses would let me work with him again. Not me. Not alone at any rate, but…" She shakes her head. "I won't."

"Good."

The door opens. Adrian steps in, closing it behind him. "The nurse is coming. You need to go."

Rorschach stands very still and looks at Adrian. The air seems to cool.

Adrian's eyes narrow. Jaw tenses.

And then, Rorschach moves. He takes his hat off. Holds it against his body. Leans over Meg.

It takes a few tries before he's finally able to make himself lean down far enough. The mask touches the top of her forehead, where the skin disappears into her hairline. She can feel his lips underneath the fabric. Feel the press of them, quick, but firm, like a child trying to prove to his friends he's not afraid of cooties.

Then he stands. Looks at Adrian again. Puts his hand on his head and turns. He climbs out the window and disappears mere seconds before there's a knock at the door.

Adrian's face tightens with annoyance. He steps away from the door and lets the nurse in.

"Hi, honey," the nurse says. "I've come to wrap your ribs. Maybe Mr. Veidt should step out?"

Meg shrugs. "He can stay."

He does stay, although he goes to the window and stares out as the nurse helps Meg out of her nightgown. Meg winces when she sees the huge, red-purple bruises on her ribcage. The fingerprints on her arms. The sight of them make her stomach turn, and she has to close her eyes so she doesn't throw up.

"Okay. There you are." The nurse helps Meg back into her gown. Straightens. "Anything else you need?"

"I'm fine. Thank you."

"Of course, dear." The nurse pats her on the shoulder and then leaves.

Meg's closes her eyes, exhausted. All she wants to do is go back to sleep, drift away and forget everything.

Except, she can't. Not yet.

"How long have you known?" she asks.

Adrian sits on the bed next to her. Takes her hand again. "Since the beginning. Since we met. I read the report of the night you rescued Billy and the girl. There were several thin spots in your story, holes that could only be explained by deducing you knew Rorschach. That you were working together." His thumb traces the veins in the back of her hand. "I've seen him, since. Standing guard on the building across from yours. On security tape when he visited you at my suite at Veidt Industries." He shrugs. "I've known."

"You never said anything."

"There was no reason to. I can only imagine how you met. Can only imagine that you talked circles around him until even he didn't know which way was up." He smiles at her. "I knew he wasn't a danger to you. Rorschach wouldn't hurt a woman. Not one like you."

"What does that mean?"

"You're not a threat. He has no reason to hurt you. Besides. You do what you can to help kids have a better life than they do. And he can appreciate that."

"Oh." She yawns.

Adrian kisses her hand. "Go to sleep. You need rest."

Meg nods again. Shifts, trying to get comfortable on the bed. As she slips into sleep, it's with the imprint of Rorschach's lips burning against her forehead.


	5. Chapter 5

_Rorschach's Journal, August 13, 1985_

_Knot Tops are recruiting kids to join gang. Run their drugs. Tag the streets with filth and obscenities. Make the world more dangerous for the small and the weak. Hurt what few are out there trying to make lives better._

_May be hopeless cause. Trying to teach a lesson. Will be fun, though_.

Rorschach steps into Happy Harry's Bar and Grill. Small crowd. Usual weeknight crowd consisting of the usual mix of trash swept in from the gutters. Large group of Knot Tops, sitting around. Laughing. Talking. Drinking.

He walks across the bar. Slow, casual. Hands in pockets, shoulders relaxed. With every step, it grows quieter inside. Voices die as he passes. Walks up to the bar.

Happy Harry is standing behind, watching Rorschach warily. Sweat beads on scalp, mixing with grease used to slick back. Holds a cigarette in one hand. It trembles, dropping ash onto the bar.

"Ror…Rorschach," Happy Harry spits out. "Been a long time. How've you been?"

"Fine, Happy Harry. You?"

Happy Harry swallows. "Fine. What brings you here?"

"Rumors." He continues to watch Happy Harry, but he's aware of the Knot Tops in his peripheral vision. Sees them watch him. Tensing, wondering what he's doing. "Seems some of your patrons been recruiting. Luring children into webs. Encouraging them to hurt people. Hurt women."

"I hurt women all the time," a man behind him crows.

Rorschach turns to see the man standing. He grabs his crotch and leers at Rorschach. "Hurt them with my monster tool until they're begging for more." His friends laugh.

He cocks his head. Walks over to the man, who watches him, grinning.

Hand shoots out. Grabs wrist. Twists.

_Crack_!

"Eeyiiaaa!" Man screams, falling to knees. Grips wrist, moaning in pain.

His friend shoots to his feet. "What the hell, man?" He lunges at Rorschach, knife in hand.

Rorschach blocks the knife thrust. Shoves his hands against the man's chest. Flips him overhead, throwing him into a crowd of Knot Tops.

Pandemonium. The Knot Tops throw the guy off them. Tables and chairs are tossed aside. As one, they attack Rorschach.

Who is ready.

The next half hour is nothing but fists and splintered wood. Broken bottles and blood. Snapped bones and howls of pain. Glass breaks. Bodies fly. Pain, bright, hard, blossoms.

And, in the end, Rorschach stands triumphant. Bodies litter the floor, some moving. Many not. Happy Harry crouches behind the bar. Crying. Everything is destroyed. Blood adorns walls and mirrors. It's beautiful.

Rorschach turns. Everything hurts. Wrist may be sprained. Many blows to head. One broken finger. Feels better than he has in months.

"Good night, Happy Harry," he says, sliding his hands in his pockets. Carefully, he steps over the bodies of the fallen. Heads to the door.

Only response from Happy Harry is his sobs.

_Rorschach's Journal, August 14, 1985 _

_Girl's apartment_ _cluttered with packed boxes. Boy's toys, scattered around. Picture books. Girl's books. Magazines about child development, thick and dense. Detective novels._

_Fight at Happy Harry's may or may not have been successful. Problem with gangs is they grow. They stay and survive. Like cockroaches. Still. Was enjoyable._

Her head hurts. Sharp, throbbing. Radiating from the middle of her forehead. Down her nose and she can't breathe. Her mouth is the Sahara. And everything thing else…

Footsteps.

She whimpers. They won't let her sleep. Every two hours, someone comes in. Wakes her up. Asks her questions and she just wants to cry.

Chair scraps on the floor. Soft noise from her left. The wrong side. The nurses come from the right.

She opens her eyes a crack. Her eyes are still sensitive to light, and even the slightest light make them ache.

"Rorschach?"

Rorschach nods. His hat is off and he's sitting down, facing the bed.

The bed's still in a reclined position. She shifts onto her shoulder, facing him. "What are you doing here?"

He shrugs. "Took care of group of Knot Tops. Not all."

She smiles wearily. "I'm not sure how constructive that'll be. In the long run. But, you know. Thanks."

"Deserved it. Scum. Criminals that pervert and destroy the country. The world. Take the ideals once stood for and spit on them."

"Yeah." She yawns. "Did you take a shower or something?"

He kind of freezes. "Lots of bruises. Pulled muscles. Had to mitigate damage."

"Right. You used my soap."

"You have better bath."

Meg can't help the smile. Her eyes are slits as she looks at him. He never fidgets, not really. Just… controls his body exceptionally well. More so when he feel attacked. Like he's getting ready to flee.

"You're welcome to it anytime," she says. "Only, we're moving soon."

He nods.

"I'll give you the address."

"Know it. Followed you when you signed lease."

"Good." She yawns again. "It's probably not safe for you to be here. The nurses keep coming in to check on me. Make sure I'm not, like. Forgetting stuff." Her eyes fall shut. She shifts in the bed closer to the edge next to him.

"Fine here. Won't get caught."

Her lips curl. "Thank you, Rorschach. I don't want to be alone."

A slim, gloved hand pets her awkwardly on the head. "Sleep now. Need sleep."

She reaches up. Takes his hand and holds it in hers, and drifts back to sleep.

_Meg's Journal, August 14, 1985_

_Rorschach was gone when I woke this morning. Adrian hasn't come yet, even though he said he'd be here first thing. It's been hours. Everything hurts. I jump at every noise and I feel like an idiot. I'm scared for no reason and I'm angry because I'm scared. _

_I just want to go home._

"Hey, hun. How are you?"

Meg opens her eyes, disappointment as fiercely stabbing as the pain in her side from her broken rib. Alexi stands beside the bed, dressed for work, hair and make-up perfect, as always, looking… perfect and not in pain.

"Fine," she says. She pushes herself up. Grabs the bed control and raises the head to support her. She's got three broken ribs and every one of them hurt so much, she can barely sit up on her own. They're wrapped to hold them together, and she's on some kind of medication, but it's not enough.

Alexi sits. "You look awful."

Meg rolls her eyes, which is stupid, because it makes her head and nose hurt more. The packing was taken out that morning, and the doctor had gone in to realign the broken bones. The pain medication from that was wearing off, so every facial twitch set off spasms of pain.

"Yeah, I know. Stupid thing to say." Alexi sighs. Reaches out and strokes Meg's tangled hair. "Because I know you, I know you're worried about Noel. He's at juvie right now. Michael Farnsworth has been reassigned to his case." She frowns and shakes her head. "He should have been assigned from the start. Not you."

"Because I'm not strong enough?"

"Babe, you're a great social worker. But Noel is screwed up. He's been like that since we got him. Woman named Sara was assigned to him before you. One of the reasons she left is because he was threatening to rape her. A woman should never have been assigned to him after that."

She shrugs. "We don't have the luxury to pick and choose. Not enough of us."

"There are enough men to take the dangerous cases like that. Besides. You shouldn't ever get a client who's over six inches taller and outweighs you by about a hundred pounds."

"Maybe I should switch to heels."

"Naw, I've seen you in them. Too tottery." Alexi smiles. Runs her hand through Meg's hair again. "You need to wash your hair."

"Can barely stand. I'm not taking a shower anytime soon."

Alexi gets a mischievous little smile on her face. "I understand that you're going to be staying with Adrian for awhile. Maybe he'll do it for you. You and him, in a bath. Naked. Bodies pressed together."

A hot flush rushes through her. Meg squirms away from Alexi. "I told you, it's not like that. He's not like that."

"He's a man."

"He's a gay man."

Alexi shrugs. "Even gay men sometimes slip."

She sighs. "Alexi. I am not interested in sex. Okay? I'm just… not. I don't want to have sex with Adrian any more than he wants to have sex with me."

"He loves you. Any idiot can see that. When he found out you were hurt, he came running. And stayed, pacing in the waiting room until they let him in to see you."

"Just because he loves me, just because I love him, doesn't mean we want to have sex with each other. That's just not how our relationship is." Her eyes fill with tears. "Do you know where he is?"

Alexi frowns. "He had to take Billy to the therapist. And to meet with Katherine."

Katherine is Billy's new case worker, it being inappropriate for Meg to be in charge and foster him.

Meg stomach drops. Her throat tightens. "Why?"

Alexi shakes her head. "Just to… get some paperwork squared away, I think. That's all. I'm sure he'll be here soon. Everything'll be fine."

Alexi's visit is interminable. She chats about work. About a guy she's dating. About some new shoes she's going to buy and a movie she wants to see. And finally, _finally_, she checks her watch and says she has to go back to work. So she gives Meg a kiss on the head, promises to be back soon, and leaves.

She manages to wait until the nurse comes in to check her vitals and give her more Tylenol before she dissolves into tears. Her eyes, still light sensitive, sting, and the heavy panting of trying to hold back sobs makes her chest ache. Her nose clogs and she can't breathe through it. Her body trembles with the force of trying to stay silent, trying to fight her tears, and losing.

She never knew crying could take so much effort.

"Meg?"

Meg doesn't turn. She stays with her back to the door, curled around a pillow, face buried in it. She doesn't react when Adrian climbs on the bed. Eases her over to face him. Takes the pillow away.

Pillow gone, all that's left to hold on to is him. She does, burying her face against his chest. Wets his silk shirt with her tears and snot and blood. Trembles in his arms as he whispers soothing nonsense and drops kisses on her head.

When she's no longer sobbing, Adrian asks, "What's wrong?"

"They're gonna take Billy from me." She's too exhausted to cry anymore. Tears leak out on their own accord, but she lies there. Listless. Limp.

Adrian's lips press against the rats nest of tangles on top of her head. "No, they aren't."

"Yes, they are. That's where you were. Giving him back."

"No. Where would you get an idea like that?"

"Alexi." Her voice breaks.

His jaw tightens. He shakes his head. "I was filling out paperwork. If you and Billy are going to be staying with me for a couple weeks, they need my information on file. A background check and fingerprints. The usual bureaucratic nonsense that they need despite the fact everyone already knows everything about me." He pushes hair back from her face, tilts it back so he can meet her eyes. "Why did you think they were taking him away? Did Alexi say they were?"

She sniffs. "Not exactly. Just kind of implied it. It's just, I can't take care of him anymore."

"Yes, you can."

Her face crumples which _hurts_. "Look at me. I can't even take care of myself. The nurse has to walk me to the bathroom so I don't fall down. I can't stand up for a shower. I can barely stand straight. Everything hurts. I can hardly sleep, I can't stay awake. I'm just… I'm a disaster."

He tilts her chin. Kisses her on the lips. Rests their forehead together. "Meg, you were attacked yesterday. You've a concussion and broken bones. Of course you need help right now."

She shakes her head. Pushes him away. "No, I shouldn't. I don't… I can't get used to people taking care of me. You're a great friend, Adrian, but honestly. I can't lean on you for everything."

"You don't." He rolls her onto her back. Props himself over her and looks down. "You don't rely on me."

She closes her eyes. Shakes her head. "I have to get through this myself. I have to. I mean… they won't let me adopt Billy if…"

"Oh, bull. Darling, you are an extremely strong woman. You take care of everyone you meet. You are a wonderful mother for Billy, and everyone knows that. They'd be mad to take him away from you simply because you're hurt. And you are hurt." His lips press against her forehead. "It's time to let go, and let someone else to take care of you for a bit. Not forever, just until you're well enough again."

"I can't ask you…"

"You don't have to." His fingers play along her neck, tracing designs. "I want to. And you deserve it. You need it."

She wipes her face, wincing. There's not a bit of it that's not swollen or hurting. "But I get to keep Billy?"

He laughs gently. "Yes. He's staying. I, um. I hired someone to look after him." Adrian frowns. Plucks at the sheets bunched around Meg's waist before straightening them out. "He knows something is going on. Knows that you're hurt. He's scared. I took him to his therapist this morning because he was so agitated. I took him to school, for the normalcy, but some of his behaviors were slipping."

"What do you mean?"

"He spent a lot of time in corner. He crawled into the coat closet and hid. When the teacher finally got him out to play dolls with one of his friends, he pulled their heads off. So, I took him back to the therapist. She suggested I take him home. Find someone to stay with him in a place he's comfortable."

"Is he alone now?"

"The therapist recommended a couple nannies. I found one who was available today. She's with him." He shrugged. "I stayed for a bit. He was shy around her, but more comfortable than he was at school."

Meg nods. Closes her eyes. More tears slide out. "Thank you."

He wipes the tears away. "You know I love him. I want what's best for him. And for you."

"I know." She shifts. Winces. "I need to sit up."

He helps her sit up. Eases her back against the bed. Readjusts the blankets around her. "Have you eaten today?"

She shakes her head. "I tried to eat whatever it was they gave me this morning, but couldn't."

"Not good?"

"No. I mean, it tasted like glue, but I'm in too much pain to eat."

Adrian frowns. He takes her wrist, checking her pulse while looking at the monitors above her head. Then he feels her forehead, her cheek. "I'll be back in a moment." He leans over and kisses her before leaving the room.

Meg takes a pillow and holds it against her chest. Her head is spinning, like she isn't getting enough air. Still, despite that, despite the pain, there's an overwhelming sense of relief that muffles it.

They're not taking Billy. She gets to keep him. Weak as she is, stupid as she was to get hurt like she did, they're not going to take her little boy away from her.

"Miss Walker," the doctor says as he comes in. He's followed by Adrian, who looks grim.

"Doctor." She shifts, trying not to groan. Relief or not, the pain is still there.

"I understand you're in some pain."

"Yeah."

He nods. Presses various parts of her, asks her to rate the pain. Frown when she can't come up with a number less than nine. Removes her nightgown and redoes her bandages. Orders tests and scans and gives her medication that makes her sleepy and hazy before he leaves.

"How much longer do you think she'll have to stay?" she hears Adrian ask as she floats in a comforting, pain-free fog.

"Probably just one more night," the doctor responds. "We'll run the tests and scans. Make sure there's nothing that we missed."

"And you'll be able to keep her comfortable?" The anger in Adrian's voice is clear in Meg's state.

"So long as she keeps us informed, Mr. Veidt, we can keep her comfortable. Excuse me."

Adrian sighs. Comes back and slides next to her on the bed. Wraps his arm around her and pulls her against her. "Hear that, love? You have to tell the doctors and nurses that you're hurting. They can't read your mind."

She yawns. "Don't wanna make a fuss."

"You're here to make a fuss when things aren't right. Promise me."

Meg yawns again. Nods. "I'll tell them."

He kisses the top of her head. Strokes her arm. "Sleep now. I'll need to leave in a bit, to work. I'll bring Billy this evening to see you. All right?"

"All right." She smiles. She feels good. So good, in fact, that she slips into sleep before she even realizes she's closed her eyes.

_Rorschach's Journal, August 14, 1985_

_Shouldn't be here. Standing in front of hospital, watching. Guarding. Case solved. Never mystery to begin with. Girl is fine, one arm of Knot Tops out of commission for moment._

_Left earlier. Found myself following Boy. With strange woman. They went to the park. Watched them, making sure he was safe. Not good for Boy to get hurt while Girl in hospital. Came back when they went home._

_Suspects Veidt recognizes me without face. Saw me when left earlier. Stared in my direction before driving off. When came back with Boy, looked at me again. Must be careful. Not good to have smartest man in world knowing too much about me._

"Do you like Miss Stacy?" Meg asks, pulling Billy's fingers from his mouth.

Billy shrugs. Looks down. Won't look at her in the face, and they'd only just got him to stop hiding in Adrian's neck. "She's nice. Pretty."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Red hair. Like it." He sticks his fingers back in his mouth.

"What did you do today?"

He shrugs. "Read books. Watched _Sesame Street_ and _Mr. Rogers_. We went to park." He chews on his fingers. "We went to the park." His eyes light up suddenly and he smiles. "Rorschach was there."

Meg starts. Glances at Adrian, then back. "Oh. Did he say anything?"

"No. Just stood there. Watched me playing. Watched Miss Stacy. He has his sign. Mom…Meg? Why isn't he here taking care of you like you taked care of him?"

She glances at Adrian again, who just shrugs. His face is stony. Obviously unhappy, but he says nothing.

"Um. Well, he stopped by yesterday to see me. But the doctors are taking care of me. He doesn't need to. Not like he needed us." She pulls his fingers from his mouth again. Holds his hand, squeezing it. "Honey, have you told other people that we took care of Rorschach?"

Billy shakes his head. "I heard the police. When Sara told them that Rorschach helped us get out…" He ducks his head. "From that place. Um, they said bad stuff about Rorschach. Stuff that's not true. They lie about him, tell lies to everyone. I don't tell people he's our friend."

"That's probably good." She glances uneasily at Adrian.

Adrian rises. Walks to the window and looks out. He looks moody.

Billy sighs. Stretches out on the bed, resting his head against Meg's chest. "Mo… Meg? When are you gonna get out?"

She drops her head to his. Kisses him. Strokes his hair and back. "Tomorrow, I hope. I feel a lot better than I did."

"And we're gonna live with Adrian?"

"For awhile. Until I'm a little better."

Billy lifts his head. "Meg. Are you and Adrian gonna be my new momma and daddy?"

Her heart aches at the plaintively wistful quality in his voice. The tone that wants so much but expects so little. She has to blink away tears and clear her throat before she can answer.

"Well, honey. I'd like very much to be your momma." She runs her fingers through his hair. "I've already started the paperwork. That's why we got the new apartment."

Billy nods. "What about Adrian?" He looks over at him.

Adrian comes over to the bed. He sits next to Meg. Pulls Billy between them, his arm around both. "Well, Billy. I'm probably not going to be your daddy. Meg and I are good friends, but we haven't talked about anything like that. But I can tell you that I'd very much like to help take care of you."

Billy frowns. His brow furrows, lower lip extends. "Oh." He looks at Meg. "But you're gonna be my mom?"

"I think so."

This time, a smile breaks out over his face. He wiggles down between Adrian and Meg. Lays with his head on Meg's shoulder. "I love you, Meg." He looks at Adrian. "You, too."

Adrian kisses Billy on the forehead. "I love you." Then he gives Meg a kiss as well.

Meg pulls Billy closer to her. Kisses his soft little cheek and squeezes him tightly.

"What are you thinking?" Adrian asks her.

She shrugs. "Not much. I'm lucky I'm coherent right now." She gives him a smile, and even with a swollen face and broken nose, it doesn't hurt as much as it did that morning. "But. My mom died about ten years ago. She was all I had. It's been a really long time since I felt part of a family."

Adrian's smile is sad and his eyes far away as he says, "Yeah. I know what you mean."

_Rorschach's Journal, August 15, 1985_

_Woman was raped last night. Killed and left in car. Had long hair, but had been cut off. Taken. Method of death: strangled. Rapist wore gloves. Found crime scene. Lady, hands on wheel, car pulled over to side. Eyes open, sightless. Hair chopped off, uneven. Knife? Blood on the seat, cold. Body in rigor mortis. Must have been there for hours._

_Seem to remember reading similar murder last month. Will look up._

_Something familiar about woman. Can't put finger on it. Will investigate further._

Chair creaks, drawing Meg from sleep. She's heavy and fuzzy. The drugs are wonderful for the pain, but hard on her thinking. She'd been lucky to hold a conversation with Billy earlier, especially one that serious.

"Sleep," Rorschach growls.

"You woke me. I'm up now." She rubs her eyes and wishes she hadn't. She keeps forgetting that they're bruised. "You okay?"

"Hrm."

Meg shifts, sitting up. Opens her eyes.

Rorschach is sitting stiffly in the chair. His hat is off. He's twisting the brim between his fingers.

She can't remember a time she'd seen him this agitated. "What happened?"

"Nothing. Murder. Think it's second. Pattern."

"What kind of pattern?"

"Woman in car. Hair cut off. Raped. Made to look like still driving."

Meg nods. "I remember that. I mean, something like that happened a few weeks ago. It had Alexi all freaked out. The woman drove the same kind of car as she does. The same hair color. And, um… their names both started with _A._ No, wait. It was more than that. That woman's name was Alexandra. That's why she was scared."

Rorschach looks at Meg. "Alexis Darling. Age thirty-three. Honda Prelude car, 1983."

Her heart starts pounding. She can hear the monitor beeping speed up, but it's almost drowned out by the sound of her breathing. "Alexi drives a Honda. I think it's an '83." She licks her lips. "You don't think she's in danger, do you?"

"Maybe."

She's breathing too fast. Knows she's breathing too fast, but can't stop. Can't…

Rorschach rises. "Where does she live?"

Meg stammers out the address. "You won't let anything happen to her, right?"

"Try not to." He turns towards the window, then stops. Turns back. Catches her chin in his hand. "If she's alive, ask questions tomorrow."

"Like… like… If she's seen anyone following her? Or um… um…"

"Anyone new in building. Anything left for her. Any men."

"She's dating a new man. I don't know his name. I don't… I don't remember."

"Ask."

"If she's alive," she says, voice catching.

Rorschach shrugs. "Probably is. Takes a few weeks to stage new murder. Have a few before. If she's next."

Meg nods. Tears brim in her eyes. "I'm getting released tomorrow morning. I'll be at Adrian's penthouse."

He grunts.

She gives him a watery smile. "You should go. I'll see you later."

He lingers a moment longer, looking down at her, his face nothing but an unreadable moving mass of black spots. Finally, he releases her chin. Runs one finger down her cheek. Then, he turns, goes to the window, and lets herself out..

The drugs in her system are the only reason Meg is able to sleep that night. And, even then, it's a trouble one.


	6. Chapter 6

_Meg's Journal, August 16, 1985_

_There was a note on my bed when I woke up this morning. Apparently, Alexi is still alive. Still in probable danger, but alive._

_I hope Rorschach finds the bastard and kills him. Fast._

"And here's your room," Adrian says. His arm is around her waist as he helps her.

The walk from the car to the elevator had been exhausting; everything after that has been excruciating. With each step, Meg finds herself getting more and more lightheaded. Adrian, though, just takes her weight as she slumps against him, practically carrying her with one arm, making her feel feather light.

"Did you redecorate?" Meg asks. Her vision is hazy from being tired, but she can see the room is different from last time. Gone are the purples and framed pictures of Adrian from his Ozymandias days. Instead, everything is done in heather blues and soft greys. There's a few pictures of oceans views and woodland mountains. The bed is situated across from a huge window, giving her a beautiful view of the city. There's a sitting area with a couch and chairs and a television. A huge bookshelf filled with books. Anything anyone could ask for.

And much larger than her apartment. Old one. Just a little smaller than the new one.

"Yes, I did," Adrian answers. He lifts her into his arms, princess style, and carries her the rest of the way into the room. "I thought… I'd hoped you might have use for it in the future. Not like this, of course." He lays her on the bed, in the middle. Crawls on next to her, head propped on his fist, gazing down at her. "But in some way."

She smiles wearily. "Like, next time you talk me in to planning one of those charity events? Or helping whoever you hire to organize the… what are you calling it? Veidt Scholarship and Children's Fund?"

He shrugs. "For now. Unless marketing can come up with a better name." He brushes hair from her forehead.

"Adrian. What do you want from me?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean." She yawns. Rubs her eyes. "I mean, why do you pay so much attention to me? Do all this? For me and Billy?"

"I love you."

"Adrian…"

"I love you, Meg. You're a good person. You're strong and honest. You do what you can to make the world a better place."

"Yeah, but you were Ozymandias."

"Anyone can put on a costume and run around, putting themselves in danger. That's big picture stuff. That's what I did, it's what I do now. I look at the big picture and try to figure out what I can do to change it. But you… you're in the trenches. You're fighting the battles for the people who truly can't fight for themselves. And you do it without expecting anything for yourself."

"I expect to get paid."

He smiles. Runs his fingers over her lips. "Well. One does need to live." He leans down and kisses her cheek. "I must admit, I miss my days in the field. Miss fighting battles, small and big alike. As Ozymandias, I was able to help on a more individual level. These days, I must think of the entire world when I act. So, well, I suppose part of it is I feel that by helping you, I'm lending my hands to the trenches." Adrian shrugs again. "Plus, I find you endearing. And Billy…" He breaks off. Closes his eyes. Takes a deep breath and says, "I never thought about having children. My parents… my parents were not good people." He opens his eyes again. "I've spent my life trying to make amends for the evils they did. I thought I wanted the Veidt name to end with me. But Billy…. I find I truly enjoy having him around. I've fallen in love with him more than I thought I could love anyone." He strokes her cheek. "Don't worry. I'm not going to try and adopt him out from under you."

"But you do want to be his daddy." She'd seen the look in his eyes the night before. Even in her drugged state, the longing in his eyes, his face, when Billy had asked Adrian if he was going to be Billy's father, had been obvious.

He doesn't answer at first. Just looks away, feelings written plainly on his face. Even when he says, "Maybe not him. Maybe I just… realize I want a child of my own." There's a hollowness in his voice.

Meg shakes her head. "I'm too tired to have this conversation. I'm sorry, but the drugs are making me woozy."

Adrian smiles in that way he has, as if the world around him is pure amusement to him. But, this time, it looks fake. His eyes are sad. Wistful. "Of course. I'm sorry."

"I started it. But, Adrian, I don't want to… to keep him from you. He loves you, and I know you love him. We'll figure something out. Okay?"

His smile morphs into something real. Much less wistful. "I suppose I haven't wanted to say anything for fear of scaring you. Scaring you away."

She shakes her head. "No. No, I'm not going to get scared off. My best friend wants to help raise the kid I never expected to have? It's a bit… coincidental, but in a good way." Meg yawns again. Tightens her hands in his shirt. "I really can't think anymore. Stay until I'm asleep?"

He shifts around until he's lying next to her, holding her. "Let go," he whispers into her ear. His lips brush the shell, warm breath teasing through her hair. "I've got you."

His arms are comfortable, familiar. She loves him, she enjoys the way he touches her. Freely, with nothing expected in return.

But, in her haze of drugs and pain and sleepiness, she can't help but wish it was someone else next to her. Someone she loved less as a friend and more as… something as indefinable as he was.

Top of Form

_Rorschach's Journal, August 17, 1985_

_Girl's friend is still alive. Don't like her. Dresses like a high priced whore. Simpers and flirts with men. Gets things doesn't deserve. Coffee free, lunch free. All for a smile and a kiss that smears her make-up across strangers' skin like blood stains wall after jugular is sliced._

_Will keep eye on her, though. Best lead I have on killer. If not next in line, somewhere. Will try to catch him before hurts anyone else. Even self-indulgent whore like her. _

"Oh my God, Meg, I am so scared," Alexi says, pacing the room. She's tugging on her fingers, twisting them as she strides from one side of the room to the other.

"What did the police say?" Meg asks. She picks up a pillow. Hugs it tightly to her chest as she tries to get comfortable on the couch. Not that the couch isn't comfortable; it's her body that's all out of whack.

"They said there's nothing they can do. No threats been made against me, no one's tried to hurt me, all there is, is an incredible coincidence." She comes over to the seating area. Sits on a chair. There a kind of hopeless desperation in her eyes. "The detective said that if I notice anyone following me or anything like that, to call them. Until then, there's nothing they can do."

"Not even have a squad car swing by your apartment every once in awhile?"

Alexi shakes her head. "Nothing." She sits back. Rests her head on her hand and rubs her forehead with the tips of her fingers. "I know I'm probably panicking over nothing. There are thousands of women New York whose names are some form of Alexandra. But, God. They looked like me. They drove the same care. And I just know that I'm going to end up just like them."

"You're not going to."

"Meg…"

Meg reaches out her hand and manages to grab part of Alexi's skirt. She shakes it. "You are not going to be killed. I promise."

She smiles wearily at Meg. Takes her hand. "Are you going to be my bodyguard? I wouldn't put it past you. You're like superwoman these days. If a little battered."

"Funny." Meg rolls her eyes, which only brings a twinge of pain. The bruises are beginning to yellow around the edges, and the dark purple has faded into a kind of sickly brown. Her nose is still swollen, and any movement makes it complain, but she's dealing. "I don't think I'm going to be anyone's superwoman anytime soon."

"No. But that's okay." Alexi sighs. Lets go of Meg's hand and leans back in the chair. "I don't suppose Adrian would mind lending me a bodyguard or anything."

"He doesn't have bodyguards. He's Ozymandias."

"Not even for you or Billy?"

She tries to raise her eyebrow, but stops immediately. "I wouldn't want one if he tried. I don't like the idea of someone following me around. And Billy… well, he has the nanny if I'm not around. And, right now, I'm not as much as I want to be." She licks her lips. Chews on her bottom one, then says, "I could ask. For you, I mean. He might… you know. Be willing to have someone to help you."

Alexi shakes her head. "No. It's okay. I'd feel like an idiot."

"Alexi. If you do notice anything, or you start feeling to scared, please let me know. I'm sure Adrian will help."

"Thanks," she says with a weary smile. "I will. I promise. Right now, though, I just need to figure out what to do with my car."

"What do you mean?"

"Well. The other two girls had the same car as me, right? Right down to the year. I figure, why not make myself less of a target and get rid of it. So. I need to sell my car and get a new one."

"I can help you with that," Meg says. "I'm going to need a car. The new apartment if further from work. And the doctor says that my ribs might take a few months to heal all the way. I'll tire easily. Plus, with Billy, well. I just need to be more mobile. Have more than my feet and the subway and everything. A car would make things easier on me. So. Why don't I buy yours?"

"I don't know if that's such a good idea," Alexi says. "I mean, you know. Friends doing business."

"What, are you going to swindle me?"

She rolls her eyes. "Of course not. I just, you know. I don't know anything about cars really. It runs fine right now, but you know life. I mean, the minute I sell it to you, it's probably gonna start drinking oil constantly and breaking down all the time. And you'll have to shell out tons of money, and I'll feel terrible. I don't want to do that to either of us."

Meg nods, seeing her point. "I guess. Ah, well. It woulda been so much easier. Now I'm going to have to find a car on my own."

"You know, Adrian…"

"Oh my God! Stop it. Seriously."

Alexi gave her a sly smile, eyelids half-mast. "Oh, fine. Although, really, he'd at least help you. I'm sure he knows something about cars."

"I'm sure he does. But I'm also sure that he's got more to do than help me with that. The apartment was one thing. I get that it was something he wanted to do for Billy's sake as well as mine. We needed it fast and we needed a safe place. And he had the time to help us out. But his work with Dr. Manhattan…"

"Have you gotten to meet him?" Alexi interrupts.

Meg blinks. It's really hard for her to keep up with abrupt conversation changes because of the drugs. She feels stupid as her mind works to figure out what had happened to talking about Adrian and apartments.

"Who?" she finally says. "Dr. Manhattan?"

"Yeah. Have you met him?"

"No. He's not exactly the kind of guy you invite over for dinner or something. I don't even know if he eats." Meg combs her fingers through her hair. "Um, one time, I walked into Adrian's office when he was on the… video phone or whatever with him. I think Dr. Manhattan mostly works from Rockefeller and he and Adrian communicate through the phone."

Alexi sits back. Sighs. "Too bad. I wonder what he's like, you know? In person."

"Naked. Blue."

She rolls her eyes. "Well, besides that. He's just so mysterious and everything. Fascinating." She shakes her head. "God, Meg. Who knew your life was going to be this exciting, you know? Rubbing elbows with the New York elite. Living with a man who works with America's superman. I'm jealous."

Meg smiles wryly. "Well. It's not all it's cracked up to be." She slumps back on the couch, resting her head against the back. She's tired now. Cold. A little shaky, the way she gets now when she gets hungry and her pain medication starts running out. Or maybe it's the antibiotics. Or when she forgot to take deep enough breaths because of her ribs. Or it was a day that ended in 'y'.

"Well. I should probably get going. I still have work."

"Thanks for coming," Meg says. "I miss everyone. Miss work."

"I'll be back tomorrow. And you'll be back soon." Alexi rises. Comes over and pulls the blankets higher over Meg. "How about you lie down?"

"Okay." She lets Alexi help her shift down on the couch, on her side.

Alexi slides a pillow under her head. Strokes her hair out of her face. "Sleep. Eat. Rest."

She smiles. "Yeah, okay." Meg licks her lips. "Um. Oh. If you get rid of your car, take it to a dealer, okay? Don't just sell it to someone through, like, the paper or anything."

"Why?"

"Because I can just see you selling it to whoever is killing people. And then you dying in it anyway."

Alexi shudders. Nods. "Good idea." She leans down and kisses Meg on the forehead. "Thanks for looking out for me."

"That's what I'm here for."

_Meg's Journal, August 17, 1985_

_Adrian had to go to Antarctica unexpectedly. He said he'll be gone for a few days. He's left staff. A cook and a housekeeper. And Stacy, Billy's nanny. His assistant is supposed to be at my disposal, and the staff has orders to take care of me._

_God, I wish he hadn't done that. I can take care of Billy and me well enough. At least well enough to feed and clean. I am grateful to Stacy since I can't exactly play with Billy right now. And I'm grateful to the others, I'm just, you know. Not used to any of this._

_I hope I can get back to work next week. I'm going out of my mind with boredom_

Rorschach stands over Girl's bed, watching her sleep. She didn't wake up this time when he came in. Probably drugs.

She sleeps deeply. Face swollen, puffy, bruised, but peaceful. Hair's longer than when first met. Part of it pulled off face, some coming out and falling over her face. Wouldn't mistake for boy now. Not unless cuts hair again. Or wears hat.

Girl makes noise in throat. Stirs, face scrunching. Pain. She opens her eyes.

"Rorschach?" she mumbles. Reaches up to rub eyes. Gasps when hand presses into bruised face.

He nods.

Girl pushes herself up. Scoots away from the edge where she was. Leaves room as she grabs a pillow and fluffs it under her head.

"Friend is okay. Safe. No one watching."

"She came by earlier," Meg says, yawning. "She says she's going to try and sell her car."

Rorschach shakes his head. "Second victim did. Two weeks ago. Still died in it."

"Who did she sell it to?"

"Still investigating." He sits on the edge of the bed. "Will find out."

"Thanks."

"They must be brought to justice. Not doing it for her. Not for you." His voice breaks on the last. He clenches his fist in the sheets on her bed.

The corner of Girl's mouth quirks. "Out of all the murders and rapists out there, you chose to work on this one."

"Two women dead."

"Yeah. Those poor women." She reaches out. Takes his hand, curling her fingers over his.

"Should have been more careful. Their indecent lifestyles led to their demise. If people cared for more than fornication and superficial pleasures, maybe they'd stop from killing and be killed."

"You know nothing about those women."

"Know enough. Make-up and tight clothing. Advertise their bodies to anyone interested. Even if they're not."

"So, you're saying they deserved to get murdered? Because they wore pretty clothes and flirted with guys?"

Rorschach doesn't answer. He lets his silence speak.

She sighs. Rubs her thumb over his knuckles. "Did I deserve being dragged down that alley the first night we met?"

He tightens his hand in hers. "No." He looks at her. "You don't… flaunt self. Put yourself on exhibition to highest bidder. They do."

"Neither does Alexi."

He looks at her.

"Some people, well. They want companionship. Want to be loved, both emotionally and physically. Alexi wants to fall in love. Wants to get married and have children. So. She dresses nicely and flirts with men, hoping that she meets the right one."

"Right one shouldn't care what she looks like or how she dresses." He turns her hand over. Traces the lines on her hand with his finger. "Some women have a line of men outside their doorway. Bring one in after another. Use body to imitate love. Give it out for pay. Others have line, but instead of outside door, just one after another. One man tried on for size. Discarded. Another picked up. Like clothing. Only pretend they're searching for love. Just after pleasure."

"And men are any different?"

He grunts. "Men don't even pretend."

"Human nature is to want companionship. And most people… they're sexual. They want to sleep with people because it feels good. Because their bodies crave it." She licks her lips. "Adrian says that I'm asexual. That I'm not interested in other people sexually. Stupid that it took someone else to point it out to me. I always thought… just kind of thought that maybe I hadn't met the right person yet. But, you know, I've been in love. When I was younger, I thought I was in love. But I've never wanted… sex."

"Sex is depraved."

"That's not fair. If two people love each other, they want to express it. With their bodies."

He grunts. Doesn't answer. Doesn't know what to say.

Girl sighs and chews on her lower lip. "I don't know. Humans do a lot of things that are depraved. We seem to be able to take anything and twist it around to hurt others. Hurt ourselves. And, yeah, sex is kind of out of control. Always has been. Same with violence. But." She stops. Bites her lip again. Worries it, tearing dry skin off. "There are people who get it right. People who love each other. People who want each other, forever and always. Who make it poetry or whatever. And, you know. People do need to procreate."

"Do they?"

She grins. "Like I've said, I'm not ready to give up on the human race yet."

He says nothing. Runs his finger down the long line in the center of her palm. Presses the leather seam at the tip of his finger to it, feeling. Finally says, "Love exists without joining bodies in depraved acts."

"It does," she agrees. "No less strong. No less true."

"Truer. Stronger."

"Maybe." She stops his tracing fingers with hers. Laces fingers through his. Squeezes. "Rorschach. I want you to know h-how much. I mean, I care for you. A lot." She pushes herself up, wincing as she does. Her hair is a ratted halo around her head. "I'm glad you were there that night. And that you're still here."

He doesn't know what he's supposed to say. Doesn't like talking about feelings. Doesn't like feeling anything for a woman.

Except she's not. She's different. Small and strange and put together different. Acts differently. In a way he can understand.

He can't bring himself to be humiliated again like he was in the hospital. With Veidt not here, there's no reason. Nothing to prove.

But he has to do something. She's sitting up, pain on her face, eye unerringly staring into his, even hidden by his face. Waiting, mouth open, lips chapped and chewed.

So, he takes his free hand. Lifts it to her face. Delicately runs his thumb over her too-big mouth. Watches as a red flush causes her skin to blotch.

"Sleep," he finally says gruffly.

She nods. Lays back down, still blushing. "Stay?"

He takes her hand more firmly in his. Leans back against the headboard. Closes his eyes. "I'll stay."


	7. Chapter 7

_Meg's Journal, August 19, 1985_

_Got a call from Alexi. Something's wrong. I wish Adrian was back. I hate having to wake Billy, but there's no way I'm leaving him with only the housekeeper. It's too weird._

"Here we are," the taxi driver says, pulling to a stop.

Meg looks up from her journal. Shoves it into her purse and pulls out her wallet . "Thanks. Keep the change!" She passes the money through the grate. Purse goes over one shoulder, sleeping Billy is gathered into her arms.

Her side complains at his weight and the awkwardness as she climbs out of the cab. She ignores it, shifting him onto her hip. Bright sparks of pain flash across her vision, but she shakes them off, looking around as the cab takes off behind her.

She's taken two steps toward the building when Rorschach melts out of the shadows. "Friend is upstairs," he tells her.

"What happened? Was it the killer? She was hysterical when she called me." Meg opens to door to the building. Goes inside. The movement further pulls her ribs. Her head kind of swims.

Rorschach follows. "No. Boyfriend. Hit her. Tore her clothes. She was screaming. I stopped him."

"Did you kill him?" She hits the button to the elevator. Shifts Billy. He's still asleep, but he's slipping from her grasp. Her fingers are tingling and arms streaking with pain.

He shakes his head. "Stopped him. Got him out. Broke a window. Scared her."

The elevator dings.

Rorschach steps back. "Told him not to bother her anymore. If he does, will kill him."

Meg nods. Smiles wearily. "Thanks, Rorschach."

He just lifts his chin. Watches as she steps into the elevator.

The next thing she knows, she's on the floor, Billy's crying, and Rorschach is crouching over her. The world seems very far away. Kind of fuzzy and distant. She hears Rorschach saying something, but it's like through a tunnel. Indistinct and kind of echoed.

"Momma?" Billy shakes her shoulder, sending a streak of pain through her.

"I'm okay," she gasps. She tries to push herself up, but she can't quite. "What happened?"

"Fainted," Rorschach says. He slides his arm behind her and helps her stand. "Should have woke Boy."

Meg grabs the wall with one hand, wraps her arm around Rorschach. Between the two of them, they get her on her feet. Her side's on fire, though, and she has to lean heavily against him. Her head is on his shoulder, body slumped against him. He smells, but it's not overpowering, and it's familiar. Almost comfortable.

Fainted. How embarrassing.

Billy is sniffing. Looking at her like she's betrayed him, his eyes huge and watery.

"Oh, baby, I'm sorry," she says. Guilt compounds the pain. "Come here."

Billy comes over. Pushes his face against her stomach and holds tightly.

"Rorschach, can you hit the button? She's on the third floor."

"I know." He leans over and pushes the button.

The elevator doors have long since closed. The lift jerks into motion, taking them up.

The fuzzy feeling is clearing, and she comes back to herself little by little. "I should have known better," she whispers, stroking Billy's hair. "I just didn't want to wake him."

"Boy's tough," Rorschach says. "Aren't you, Boy?"

Billy looks up at Rorschach. Gives him a watery smile, then directs it at Meg. "I'm tough. You can wake me. I'm okay."

"I know. But, you still need your sleep. When we see Alexi, I want you to go to her bedroom and go to bed. Got it?"

He nods. "Is 'lexi okay?"

Meg bites her lip. Looks at Rorschach.

"Bruised," he tells Billy. "Cut on her mouth. Cut near her eye. A little blood. But okay."

"What happen?" Billy asks.

"Bad man," is Rorschach's answer.

The elevator stops. The doors open.

"You go. I have work."

Meg nods and gives Rorschach a smile. "Thanks."

He touches his thumb to her lip, then pushes her away. "Go."

Meg allows herself to be pushed away from Rorschach. She takes Billy's hand. Together, they leave the elevator and go to Alexi's apartment.

"Who is it?" Alexi's tearful voice comes through the door.

"It's me, Alexi. Let me in."

The door opens.

Alexi looks awful. Bloodshot eyes and hair all messed up. Not to mention the dark bruise on her eye, open and bleeding in the middle. The cut on the corner of her lips, which were puffy and apple red. Crusted nose and smeared make-up, her mascara turning her tears black down her face.

"Oh, Alexi." Meg steps inside. Takes the other woman into her arms.

Alexi begins to sob. She clings to Meg, shaking as she cries, bending practically double so she can curl herself against Meg's smaller form.

Somehow, Meg gets them both to the couch. She shoos Billy away, to the bedroom, feeling like an awful mother as she does. But she doesn't know what else to do. Alexi is inconsolable and hysterical; she probably didn't even realize Billy was there.

After about ten minutes, Alexi finally calms enough to talk.

"I knew he had a temper," she says. "I just never thought he was violent, you know? I've been feeling sick all day. A headache and just tired. But we had a date. We went to dinner, and then he came over. I tried to let him know I just wanted to be alone, but first wanted to watch a game. Then he wanted a beer. So, I got a beer, and we were watching the game. He was. I was dozing. Just awful. And he wouldn't get the hint. And then… and then the game ended." Fresh tears break out.

Meg takes a tissue from the box on the coffee table. Hands her one.

Alexi wipes her eyes. "He tells me that he guesses he'll go now, and I should call when I was ready to be a good girlfriend again. When I asked what he meant, he said that… that I was so quiet all night. Distant. It was obvious that I didn't want him around, and he thought that was… bullshit. And I told him I'm tired. I don't feel well. That we've been out every day this week, and I was sorry, but I needed a break. And he says… he says that I'm obviously not interested in a relationship. He just wanted to spend time with me, and I was acting like a cold hearted bitch. And I then I…" She closes her eyes, tears flooding down her face. "I called him a bastard. Told him how dare he. So he smacked me. Just… hit me."

"Oh, Alexi." Meg reaches out and takes her hand.

She shakes her head. "I couldn't believe it. I just stood there. Looked at him. He says… asked if I was going to apologize. For acting the way I was. I said something like, 'Excuse me? I'm allowed to have an off night.' And he hit me again. And again. The second time, it was so hard, I fell. And I found myself wanting to apologize. Wanting to tell him that I was sorry. That I was wrong. I was about to, when the window broke. I guess… I guess Rorschach broke in. I was too scared to look. I was on the floor, crying and I heard him beating Richard. Kicking and hitting and bones being broken. I just stayed there crying. Until he said… he said he was taking Richard out. I should call a friend." She wipes her eyes. "He threw Richard out the window. Followed. And then I called you."

"I'm glad you did." She takes another tissue and wipes a few more tears away. "So. Are you going to press charges?"

"I don't think so. Don't say it," Alexi interrupts when Meg opens her mouth to protest. "I know I should. And I know all the arguments about how stupid I'm being in not. But…" Fresh tears brighten her eyes. "I just want to forget this ever happened. I'm never going to see him again. I swear. If there was any doubt in my mind, this seals it." She takes the tissue and blots under her eyes. "If Rorschach hadn't broken in, I might. Eventually. But, uh… I don't want to complicate things for you."

Meg frowns. "For me? What do you mean?"

"Oh, come on, Meg." Alexi rolls her eyes. "You get jumped in an alley and come out with a broken ankle, but alive. The guy who attacked you is found the next day, dead. A few weeks later, you randomly show up at the house of a child pornography ring just before Rorschach blows it up. You get attacked by a kid recruited by the Knot Tops, that night, an entire subsection of Knot Tops get the ever living shit beaten out of them. Now there's a killer out there who's killed two women with similar names and looks and cars as me, and Rorschach kind of randomly rescues me from being beating by my boyfriend." She takes Meg's hands. Squeezes. "I don't know what's going on. I have nothing, you know. No proof or anything. But… is something going on?"

"I don't… I'm not…" Meg sighs. Pushes hair from her head. "Look, I know his methods are extreme. I don't agree with everything he does. But he saved my life. He saved Billy." She licks her lips. "He looks out for me. And, okay, I sorta asked him to keep an eye on you. Make sure that the killer didn't get you. So… But you should still press charges."

Alexi shakes her head. "Meg. Adrian Veidt is one thing. He's respectable. And powerful. Rich. Clean. But Rorschach is… honey, he's a psycho. I know he's done some good things, and I'm glad he saved you. Hell, I'm glad he saved me. I'm grateful, really. But he's unpredictable."

She ducks her head. Avoids looking at Alexi. "I know. But I trust him. He won't hurt me."

"You don't know that. I didn't think Richard would hurt me." She sniffs.

"He wouldn't hurt a woman who wasn't… attacking him or dangerous or something. And even if he does, I'll be fine. Or, you know. Not as bad as any other time I've gotten in trouble." She tries to smile, but it feels false.

"I don't like it."

"I'm sorry." _But I think I'm kind of in love with him_, she finishes silently. She bites her lip and sighs. "Okay. Let's go clean the cuts and get some ice on your bruises. And then let's try to get some sleep. You're taking tomorrow off, okay?"

Alexi nods. There's a look of resignation on her face. "Yeah. I will."

"Good." She takes Alexi's hand and rises. "Come on. Let's go."

_Rorschach's Journal, August 19, 1985_

_Distasteful task last night, saving Girl's friend. Still. For once, friend wasn't acting like a whore. More distant. Man's attack was unprovoked._

_Girl fainted today. Pain, from ribs. System put her in situation with dangerous man. System is broken. Girl is now broken. World is going to hell._

Meg opens her eyes. She's still exhausted. Half a day and most of the night at Alexi's. Fainting from pain from carrying Billy. Being uncomfortable in Alexi's bed with both Alexi and Billy in it. Pain, just in general.

She needs more sleep. But her stomach is growling.

She climbs out of bed and pulls on her robe. Since being hurt by Noel, she's been basically living in pajamas. Adrian bought her a whole bunch, soft, comfortable. Much nicer than the PJs she was used to. She was kind of getting used to being pampered.

"I will not eat them in the rain," Adrian is saying when Meg enters the living room. "I will not eat them on a……"

"Train," Billy finishes for him.

Adrian nods. Continues reading, "I will not eat them in a …"

"Box! I will not eat them with a fox," Billy reads confidently. Reads, recites from memory. Whichever, it's cute.

"Hey," Meg says, drifting further into the room. "When did you get back?"

Adrian's sitting on the couch, Billy next to him. He's got his arm around Billy, holding the book so they can both see. He's dressed casually, for him, slacks and a casual lavender shirt. His hair is mussed and he's got a smile on his face.

The smile deepens when he sees her. "A few hours ago. You were sleeping. I didn't want to wake you."

"Thanks." She comes over to the couch and sits on the other side of Billy. "Well. Go on," she says, putting her arm around Billy's thin shoulders. "I want to hear the story."

Billy looks between her and Adrian. He's beaming. Meg can't remember him ever looking so happy, neither before his placement nor after his rescue. But here, between two people who loved him, the center of their world, their attention, he was blooming.

She listened as Adrian and Billy finished the story. As Adrian asked Billy his favorite parts and what had happened. Adrian's promise that they could have green eggs and ham for breakfast tomorrow. And she guesses she drifted off or something, because the next thing she knew, her head was in Adrian's lap and Billy was on the floor, coloring and watching a video.

"Did I fall asleep?"

"Yes." Adrian looks down from file he's reading. Strokes her hair. "Billy said something about going to Alexi's last night?"

She nods as she sits up, pain stabbing her side. She shifts and leans against Adrian, trying to get comfortable. "Her boyfriend… or ex-boyfriend, hit her. I had to go over."

"You could have left Billy with Mrs. Saxon," he says, referring to the housekeeper.

"No, I couldn't. I'm not used to having a housekeeper or butler or any of these...domestic employees. And it would have felt weird. If you'd been here, it'd be different. But you weren't."

He strokes her back. "Sorry about that."

"You've got work. I don't mind."

"Billy said you fainted."

She sighs. Kid was a snitch. "I did. I shouldn't have been holding Billy, but I didn't want to wake him. The pain just kind of got to be too much, and, all of the sudden, I was on the floor of the elevator with Billy and Rorschach looming over me."

Adrian's mouth flattens into a thin line at the mention of Rorschach's name. He slides his arm around her shoulders and pulls her to him. "You need to remember to start taking care of yourself. It's all well and good to care for your friends and your child, but you have to take care of yourself. What if damaged your ribs more? And don't think you're not going to the doctors tomorrow to check."

"Yes, Mother."

Adrian smiles. Kisses her on the forehead. On the cheek. "You don't need to take care of everyone all the time. And, when you do, you have to use your head. You're human. Even I wore armor, remember."

She nods. Sighs and leans against him. "Rorschach doesn't. Just a few layers of clothes. It's scary."

Adrian stiffens slightly under her. He readjusts his grip on her, urging her to curl up, head on his shoulder. "No. He doesn't. But Rorschach isn't exactly what you'd call sane." He leans his head against hers. His fingers idly trace up and down her arm. "Still. I suppose he's done well for himself, considering. That doesn't mean he can't be hurt. We're all human."

"I suppose," she sighs. "I'll be more careful." She frowns. Chews on her lower lip. "Adrian."

"Hmmm?"

"How much trouble can I get in? For, you know. My… relationship or whatever with Rorschach."

Again, he stiffens. His hand becomes a vise on her arm, pain blossoming out, before he relaxes it. "I wouldn't worry. If the authorities ever did realize he's been coming to see you, you could always tell them you were too afraid to even think about calling them."

"I'm not going to lie. I'm not afraid of him. I've never been."

"If you want to stay out of jail..."

"I'm not going to lie," she says firmly.

Adrian sighs. "I might have expected it. You know, in some way, you're just like him. Unwilling to compromise even when it serves your best interest."

"Not all compromise is bad, I know that. But not on this. He's my friend. I care for him. I won't lie about that."

"Very well." He kisses her again. "If the authorities ever did take an interest in your relationship with him, I'd protect you."

"And him?"

He sighs. "I suppose. Maybe."

"You don't like him, do you?"

"I don't know him. Rorschach isn't exactly the type of man you really know. Out of all the Crimebusters, such as the group was, he was the only one whose identity I never discovered."

She raises an eyebrow. "Really?"

Adrian gives his eyes a sort of roll. "I know what he looks like. I know he's the local prophet of the apocalypse, although, unlike most of them, he rarely speaks. Just holds the sign and lurks on street corners. But I don't know who he is other than that."

Meg can't help but feel slightly smug. Finally, there was one thing that Adrian didn't know and she did. Sometimes, it was daunting being around the smartest man in the world.

"He was committed to making the world a safer place," Adrian says. "To punishing people who hurt others. But he's very… black and white. In his world, there is right and there is wrong. No in between. I find that as perplexing as he finds my view of the world." He shrugs. "Rorschach was always extreme. Always absolute in his views. But things got worse after a case went bad for him in seventy-five. A little girl was killed and he didn't get there in time to save her. After that, he changed."

"Changed?"

"He began killing most, if not all, of the criminals he caught. His temper grew impossibly shorter. I didn't deal with him as much anymore, of course, since I retired around the same time, but… but he was a changed man."

Meg nods. Worries her lower lip before saying, "He told me once that he doesn't really have any friends. One other besides me."

"I'm not surprised. Does he even talk to you, other than… whatever it is he does when he comes to see you?"

She looks up at him. "We talk. He's not extremely articulate, but he's smart. Just… short."

Adrian's lips quirk. "Short. You know, when I met him, he actually spoke in complete sentences almost all the time."

"The case probably caused some kind of mental break in him," Meg says, voice hardening. "It's not his fault." She sits up, pulling away from him. "Are you jealous of him or something?" She feels stupid saying it. Her cheeks heat up, because, when it comes down to it, why would a gorgeous, gay gazillionaire be jealous of a vigilante with hygiene issues and a possible mental disorder over _her_?

But Adrian seems to actually consider the question. His eyes go a little distant, and his head tilts to the side. And then he sighs. "Yes, I suppose I am. Rorschach doesn't have friends. He doesn't like women at all. I know why he's drawn to you, but I guess there's a part of me that doesn't want to share you with him."

The blush deepens. She feels hot, like fire ants are marching up and down her skin. "You're… I mean that's… You share me with a lot of people. I have friends other than you."

He hesitates. His fingers brush over her jaw, tracing the line. Up to her ear and around, where he tucks some of her hair behind her ears.

Finally, he says, "You're right. I'm being silly. I suppose it's simply a sort of professional jealousy. He's a mask, I'm a mask. You weren't as impressed with me after meeting him."

She laughs, but it's strained and sounds false. "Trust me, Adrian, I find you impressive." Her stomach gives a sudden loud rumble.

"Why don't I see about dinner?" He smiles, and the tension is broken. Mostly.

She returns his smile. Nods. "That sounds good."

He kisses her on the forehead, then gets up from the couch. When he's at the door, he turns. "Oh. There's a government function next week. I have to go if I want to continue my project with Jon." He puts his hands together and gestures to her. "Will you come with me?"

"What?"

"I'll buy the dress and help you get ready. Anything you need."

"Why can't you take Sonya or something? Isn't she who you take to all your official functions?"

"Sonya is my assistant. She'll be there, but as my assistant. I don't want her on my arm." He smiles charmingly. "I want you."

Meg groans. Lets her head fall back against the couch. "I'll think about it," she says, even though she knows that it's futile to resist.

"Wonderful."

_Rorschach's Journal, August 21, 1985  
_

_Girl's friend's car was tampered with last night. Came on it too late to stop it. Or catch who did it. Frustrating._

She's dreaming the city is deserted, everyone gone except for her. She's in the middle of the street, screaming, looking for Billy and Rorschach and Adrian, but there's only empty cars and empty buildings and the wind sweeping trash down the street and the world starts shaking and…

She gasps, cutting off a scream as she does. Rolls onto her back, heart pounding, tears threatening and…

"Rorschach?"

He starts to step back from the bed, but she's too fast. She's up and her arms are around him. She clings to him, the dream still washing over her.

"I dreamed you were dead. Everyone was dead and it was just me. All alone and…" She breaks off, shuddering.

Rorschach stands stiff in her arms. His arms are under hers, pinned to his sides. He brings his hands up, though. Grips her biceps. Pushes at her, straining in the opposite direction.

She flushes. Let's go. "Um." She swallows, blushing hotly. "Sorry."

He clears his throat. Adjusts the scarf around his neck, the blots on his face moving furiously. "Just a dream."

"Right. Yeah. Just a dream." She pushes hair from her face. "They, um, the pain medication makes my dreams really vivid. Sorry." She digs her fingers into her scalp. Scratches, the dream images turning into fire ants marching over her skin.

"Don't take drugs. Would rather live with the pain."

When Meg looks up at her, Rorschach's head jerks down and to the right. He shakes his head. "You do. Take care of boy. Get better faster."

"I can manage the pain."

"Don't have to. Safe."

She hitches a shoulder. "I guess." Meg tilts her head to look at him. Pats the bed next to her.

He shakes his head. "Can't stay. Friend's car was tampered with. Won't drive. Don't let her take it anywhere."

"She needs the car. She's not going to listen to me. She'll want to get it fixed."

He shakes his head again. "Don't allow her. If necessary, she can take it to Hollis Mason auto repair shop. Probably trustworthy."

"Hollis Mason? Like, the original Nite Owl?"

Rorschach nods.

"_Probably_ trustworthy?"

He shrugs. "Probably. At any rate, not the one killing women and leaving them in their cars."

A chill goes through Meg. She reaches for her pillow. Hugs it against her stomach. "It's not her boyfriend, right? I mean, her ex. I mean, the guy she was dating who hit her?"

"He's in the hospital. Couldn't have done it."

"Okay." She bites her lip again. "Does she know about her car yet?"

Rorschach shakes his head.

"Why didn't you tell her?"

"She's your friend. Only doing it to stop criminal. Only reason not using her as bait is…" He stops talking abruptly.

Meg flushes. "Can you guarantee her safety if she was, you know. Bait?"

He hesitates. His head moves back, to the side. Then he slowly shakes his head. "Nothing is sure. Can't make promises."

"But you can't make any promises even if you don't use her as bait."

Shrug.

"She knows about you. About me and you. I mean. That you saved her the other night because of me." Meg shrugs. Looks up at him. "Maybe she'd be willing to be bait. You know. If we ask her." Then, she wrinkles her nose. "If I ask her."

He doesn't say anything. But his shoulders loosen. He nods.

Meg smiles. "All right, then. I'll ask her tomorrow. Let you know tomorrow night."

He nods again. Steps back.

She wants to ask him to stay, but he already said he had to go. She gives him a small wave, a sad smile.

In a movement almost too fast for her to see, he's back at the bed. His hand is on her mouth, fingers brushing over it. Then, he turns and disappears out the window.

Meg lies back and tries to get comfortable again. The shadows are heavy in the corners of her room, and there's pain in her side. She's probably due for more medication, but she doesn't want to take more. Doesn't want to become dependent on it. There's something to be said for pain. It was honest.

She can't sleep, though. No matter how she turns and plumps her pillows, she can't settle down. She's too worried. Worried about Alexi. Worried about Rorschach. Worried about Billy, and what it'd do to him to take him away from Adrian when she got better.

Finally, she gets up. She can't sleep, and it was just frustrating her trying. She'll get some warm milk, then curl up with a book.

Light from underneath Adrian's door makes her pause. She knocks on it lightly.

"Come in."

Meg opens the door and steps inside.

Adrian's in bed, but awake. Sitting in the center of a huge bed, papers strewn around him. There's a folder in his lap, pen in his hand.

He puts the pen inside the folder and closes it when he sees her. "Meg. What's wrong?" He starts to push everything away, but she shakes her head.

"Nothing. I'm fine. I just… can't sleep."

Adrian raises an eyebrow. Frowns. "Did something… happen?"

Somehow, even without him saying it, she knows what he's asking.

"Rorschach had to leave." She curls her toes in the carpet. "Someone messed around with Alexi's car. He told me not to let her take it anywhere. Except maybe Hollis Mason?"

Adrian nods. "He should be fine. He's an upstanding man. Good mechanic, so I hear. I could," he adds, voice lilting, "have my personal mechanic look at it. If it's okay with Rorschach."

"I'm sure it would be. He just doesn't want, you know. For this to be a trap. Except, uh." She swallows. "I'm supposed to ask Alexi if she'd mind."

"Mind? What? Being bait?"

She nods.

Adrian sighs. Looks away from her.

"What do you think?"

Grey-green eyes come back to rest on her. He shakes his head and says, "I suppose Alexi is the best lead there is. If she is being targeted, it'd end it sooner, rather than later. And, with any luck, before anyone else dies. But it's not without its risks."

"I don't even know how I'd go about asking. I trust Rorschach with my life. But how can I ask Alexi to?" She sighs and rubs her head.

"Are you feeling all right?"

"I'm fine. Just can't sleep. I had a nightmare, and now this and everything else. I just… I just want life to go back to being simple."

"Go back?"

She laughs bitterly. "I wish it were simple. Something. Anything."

Adrian pushes some of his files away. Pats the bed. "Come here."

She crosses the room and climbs onto the bed. The comforter is thick and soft; it sinks under her weight as she crawls over to him and slides underneath the covers. Purple silk sheets, of course. She can't help running her feet over them, sinking briefly into a hedonism she rarely allows herself.

Adrian puts his arm around her and pulls her close. "Just sit down and talk to Alexi," he says, chin resting on her head. "Explain to her what's going on. What Rorschach's thinking is. Let her make the decision."

"What if she says yes and then she gets killed?"

"What if she says no and gets killed? If she dies, Meg, you'll feel guilty either way. It's inevitable, unfortunately. But, if Rorschach is able to catch this man, it will have been worth it."

"What if he's too late to save Alexi, but is able to catch him anyway?"

He sighs. Holds her tighter. "That's where things start getting less black and white and more into shades of grey. The truth of it is, sometimes you have to sacrifice the individual for the greater good. It'd be a tragedy should Alexi get killed. But think of the women who are saved." He kisses the top of her head, then rests his chin on it again. "It's just one possibility out of many. Sometimes, it's just a gamble."

"Life always seems a gamble. Just a trick of fate." She squeezes her eyes shut.

"Do you want me to have someone keep an eye on Alexi, too? For added protection?"

She thinks about it. Nods.

"Then it's done. I'll have someone on it tomorrow."

"Thank you."

He kisses her temple. "What's this about a nightmare?"

"Stupid. I've been watching the news too much. This arms build-up stuff. The constant threat that, any second, we're all going to get blown all to hell by the Russians. It's getting in my dreams. Just… you know. Me, alone. Everyone else gone. Everyone in New York, gone. Dead." She shakes her head. "Why can't Dr. Manhattan just, I don't know. Make all the nuclear bombs disappear?"

"I don't think even he has that power," Adrian says, his voice distant. "And, should he, well. There are still other ways to make war. It would be seen as an act of aggression. We'd be attacked."

"What if he took all the weapons away? Took…."

"Meg."

She sighs. "I know. I know." She squeezes her eyes shut. "Usually, I feel like, okay. I can't solve the world's problems, but I can fix the problems in my kids' lives. In this little bit of my world, I make a difference. Right now, though, I'm useless."

"You're not useless."

"I feel useless. I tire easily and I can't do my job. I'm not able to get back to my apartment to finish packing, I won't be able to move in to the new one when I was supposed to. I can't play like I want to with Billy. Just, everything stinks." She blinks rapidly, trying to keep the tears from gathering in her eyes.

Adrian takes her hand. "I've already hired people to finish packing your apartment. They'll unpack it, too. You're going back to work in a couple weeks. Your ribs will heal and you'll be able to play with Billy. Right now, though, you're tired and grumpy."

"I feel like all I do is sleep."

"It's what your body needs right now."

"What about you? You work all day, and now you're working all night, too?"

He smiles at her. "How about we both try to get some sleep?" Adrian lets go of her. Gets out of bed and gathers all the books and papers together.

"How are you coming on your work, anyway? Getting any closer to… discovering a cheap and more efficient energy source?"

"Well. We're trying. I think we might be a few months away, still."

"But months. Better than years, right?"

"Yes, it is." He puts the books on his desk, then come back to bed. Slides in next to her. "The world's going to change, Meg. Very soon, if I have my way." He turns off the lights, then shifts under the covers, facing her.

"Will it be better?" she asks.

He smiles at her. Runs his finger over her cheek. "Yes," he promises. "It will."


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Sorry about the long delay. Life's been really busy lately. Will try to update more regularly.

* * *

_Meg's Journal, August 22, 1985_

_The doctor said my ribs are fine. Still broken, but I fainted because I put too much stress on them carrying Billy. I've been given a weight limit as to how much I can carry. And been told that while I can do non-strenuous activity, it'll be a week or so until I can get back to work. _

It's mid-afternoon by the time Meg makes it downtown to the Child Protective Services office. She'd hoped to get there earlier so she could take Alexi to lunch, but she overslept and the doctor took longer than she thought. No matter; she can talk to her here just as easily as at a restaurant. If Alexi isn't too busy, maybe they can get a cup of coffee. She doubts it, though. There never seemed to be a moment of peace at the office. It was always rush, rush, rush from phone calls to meetings to home visits to school visits back to the office and so on.

"Meg!" her supervisor, Shawn, greets her when she comes in. He crosses the room and puts a gentle hand on her shoulder. "How you doing, kid? You look awful."

"I'm fine. Sort of. The doctor says I should be able to come back sometime next week, although it'll be another week or so before can go out on anything strenuous."

He nods. "That's good news. We could use you around here to field calls and set up appointments. We're falling behind, and it seems like we're getting new reports every day."

Meg rubs her forehead. Nods. "Well, I can do those calls at home. I really want to call my kids, see how they're holding up."

"We've got them farmed out to other workers right now."

"Oh, I know. But you know how it is. I want them to know I haven't abandoned them, that it's just temporary." She shrugs. "I sleep a lot because of the drugs, but when I'm awake, I could use something to do."

"Besides snack on bon-bons and read magazines up in that palace?" Shawn says with a smile.

She rolls her eyes.

"Okay. That'll really help us out a lot. I've got the names of who your clients have gone to, so you can keep in touch. Oh, and I just remembered." He turns and goes back to his desk. Picking up a thick file, he holds it up. "We got the final figure of that benefit you did. We also sent that memo for the programs and such people wanted to use the money for. All we need now is someone to go through it all. And who better than you?"

Meg grins and takes the file. "That sounds like something I can do. I'll get everything back to you as soon as I can."

"Thanks, Meg. You're a doll." He sits on his desk. "So. What brings you here?"

"Alexi. How is she?"

He shrugs. "Fine. Skittish and upset. She looks like hell and won't talk, which, you know, is unusual. She usually never shuts up. But what do you expect? I asked her to see one of the shrinks, and she just says she'll think about it." He shakes his head. "That stupid ex of hers couldn't have chosen a worse time to show his true colors. First she's scared because of those two women who were killed, and now this. And now her car won't start."

"Does she know why?" she asks, even though she knows. She's just not sure if Alexi knows her car was tampered with, or if she thought it was just mechanical.

"Eh, no. She said it's been making a noise for a while, but she thought it'd be okay. You know how cars are."

"Not really. I've never had one. I think I might get one, though, to help me get around. With Billy, it'll be easier. So I better learn." She shifts the folders in her arms. "I'm going to go talk to her, then I'll probably take off."

"Don't forget to pick up payroll forms to document the time you work. You know how the government likes its paperwork."

"I will."

"Dot the i's and cross the t's!" he calls after her as she makes her way across the room.

She waves at him and throws him a smile as she goes into the next office.

Alexi is at her desk, working at her computer. She's a complete mess, which is unusual for her. Her clothes are sloppy, her hair is in a messy ponytail with half escaping. She's got some make-up on, but it only accentuates how pale she is. How dark her bruises are and the cuts on her face. She just looks fragile. Shaken. Like something you want to protect.

"Hey," Meg says, sitting in the chair next to Alexi's desk.

Alexi looks way from the computer. Gives Meg a wan smile. "Hey. What are you doing here?"

"Checking up on you. How are you?"

Tears feel her eyes, but Alexi smiles through them. "Oh, you know. I'm good. I'm fine. I'm fine." She reaches for a tissue. Wipes her nose.

"Uh-huh. And now I'm completely convinced." Meg reaches out and takes Alexi's hand. Squeezes it.

She blinks, spilling a cascade of tears over her cheeks. "I want to be fine. I really do. But I'm jumping at every sound and every time I read another report, I start tearing up."

Meg hands Alexi a tissue. "Anything I can do?"

"No. Not really." She wipes her eyes. "I'm fine. I know I am. Just, I'm afraid that Richard will come back and do something. I'm afraid that this psycho murderer is going to come and kill me. I'm afraid… I'm afraid of the boogey man under my bed. And I know it's all stupid, that Rorschach scared Richard off and I'm probably being paranoid about the killer. But I just feel… watched."

"Have you talked to anyone at the police? I know you don't want to press charges against Richard, but…"

"Yeah. I talked to Steve Parkman, the officer who's come with us a few times when we've removed kids from their homes?"

Meg nods in recognition.

"He said that he doesn't mind passing by my apartment when he can, just to make sure. And he's going to talk to some of his friends, have them keep an eye out for Richard around my neighborhood. He also gave the number of the detectives working on the serial killer case. Although, officially, it's not serial killer, yet."

"You going to call?"

Alexi shrugs. "You don't think I'm being silly?"

"Rorschach doesn't, and I trust his judgment. He thinks there's a good chance that you're being targeted. Like, your car's not working, right?"

Alexi pales. "How do you know that?"

"'cause Rorschach said it was tampered with. He didn't catch who did it, though, but he's checking to see if that happened to the others."

Alexi buries her head in her hands. "I'm so tired of this. I just thought it… it's been making sounds, so I assumed…"

Meg rises. "Let's get out of here for a bit."

"But I have work to do."

"Did you take your lunch?"

She shakes her head.

"We're getting something to eat. Come on." Meg tugs at Alexi's arm until the other woman stands. After wiping the fresh batch of tears from her cheeks, she leads Alexi out of the office.

The car with driver Adrian had insisted she take was waiting outside. Even though it was only a few blocks to the Gunga Diner, their usual lunch spot, Meg is tired enough to take the car. She hates that just walking tires her out, but there's nothing she can do about it. Just push through and accept the help she's given.

Rorschach's hanging out on the corner by the diner. Meg gives him a little wave, which is acknowledged with a lift of his chin and a not-quite smile. Alexi is too busy trying to pull herself together to notice. She's glad. Alexi's never liked that Meg talks to the homeless on the street; she thinks that their job should be confined to the official functions, like meetings or soup kitchens. Someplace where they are theoretically protected by the presences of males. Meg thinks it's sad that Alexi has so much fear in her. Of course, Meg was the one dragged down an alleyway and almost beaten to death, so maybe she should have a little more fear.

They are seated immediately in a booth by the window. They both order a cup of coffee, and Meg has to convince Alexi to get something to eat. She knows the way Alexi stresses because it's the same way she reacts to stress: they both stop eating. Meg wouldn't be surprised if Alexi hasn't eaten since her first fight with Richard.

"Okay," Meg says once their sandwiches have arrived. "Your car's been tampered with. When you call the detective, tell him. Let him know that the mechanic you took it to said it was tampered with or something."

"I haven't taken it anywhere yet."

"I know. I'm just saying, you know. Instead of saying how you really found out."

She nods. Brushes hair from her eyes and takes a sip of coffee. "This morning, there were fliers for a mechanic on all the cars." She pulls it from her purse. "The place has been there a few years. I've seen it. Never been, though. I was thinking about it."

The flyer is for Mike's Auto Repair offering a discount on oil changes. Nothing about fixing whatever was wrong with Alexi's car. Either the guy was playing it cool, or it was just an amazing coincidence.

"I'm going to show this to Rorschach," Meg says, folding it. "He thinks that you should wait. Or take it to Hollis Mason. You know, the original Nite Owl? He said that that he's trustworthy."

"I'd hope so."

Meg smiles. "Yeah, well. Oh, and Adrian said that he can have one of his mechanics look at it, if you'd rather."

"Will you just decide for me? I have no idea."

"Well. I don't…" Meg bites her lip. Glances out the window at Rorschach. "You know, if this guy is coming for you, we might be able to catch him."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean… well. Let's say whoever tampered with your car does work at this Mike's Auto Shop," she says, looking back at Alexi. "And you take it there to get fixed and meet the guy. And he comes after you, only Rorschach is there, waiting. And catches him."

Alexi blinks. Tilts her head. "You mean, you want to use me as bait."

She shrugs. "I don't know. Maybe?"

Alexi's head falls back and she closes her eyes. "God. I don't… Do I even have any choice? I mean, this guy seems to be coming after me whether I agree or not. I doubt that not taking my car to wherever he works will stop him. Not if he really wants to kill me."

"That's probably true."

"I don't want anyone else to get hurt. And I don't want to die." She looks at Meg, eyes filmed with tears again. "What should I do?"

"What you want to do. You can take the car to someone you trust. Talk to the police. Ask them to place a guard on your apartment. Or Adrian's said he'll lend you a security guard or two. You need to do what you feel most comfortable with."

"What would you do?"

Meg sighs and closes her eyes. "I'd… I'd go with Rorschach. I'd do what he suggested. I'd let myself get used as bait, but I am not saying that you should do the same if you're not comfortable with it."

Alexi runs her finger around the rim of her coffee cup. Her eyes are contemplative beneath the heavy black fringe of eyelashes. Even with the bruise and cuts, Alexi is stunningly beautiful, all pale skin and sculpted features. Sometimes, Meg lets herself be jealous of her friend's beauty. Right now, she just wishes she had artistic talent to capture it somehow.

"Rorschach scares me, Meg. I've been doing some reading on him. He's… he's really extreme. He kills most of the people he catches."

"They're criminals."

"We have a system in place to take care of criminals."

"It's broken," Meg counters. "And it's not like he kills everyone. I mean, if he caught someone who robbed a convenience store, he probably wouldn't kill them."

"Probably?" Alexi raises her eyebrow.

Meg sighs. "We have a system of justice. But it doesn't work. Over half the kids we remove from homes go back. And over a quarter of those kids have to be removed again because their parents are still neglecting them or beating them or molesting them. We take them and the parents go to jail or they go to parenting classes or substance abuse counseling so then we can give the kids back to them. And then, a few months later, we take the kids out again. It's ridiculous and sad and frustrating and… and Rorschach does something about it."

"He makes the kids orphans," Alexi points out. "And, let's face it, our screening system for foster parents is flawed. And we don't exactly have a mob pounding at our door to adopt these kids."

"But the people who hurt them are punished."

"They're not punished, Meg. They're dead." Alexi drains her coffee and sets the mug back down with a thump. "I'm afraid he'll hurt you."

"He's not going to hurt me. I haven't done anything wrong. I give him tips and stuff. And he comes to me when he finds kids on the street."

Alexi frowns. "Haven't you seen the tabloids? What they're saying about you and Veidt? What if Rorschach takes it seriously and comes after you?"

"What are you talking about?"

She sighs. "The tabloids and gossip shows are speculating that you and Adrian are together. That it's strange, because back when he dated more publically, he went with people like Farrah Fawcett or Barbra Streisand or Raquel Welch or, you know…"

"Pretty women?"

Alexi blushes. "Famous sex symbol and beautiful women. And now he's with you. And it seems like it's all the time because he's never seen unless he's with you."

"That's not true. He gives interviews and stuff. And he works."

"Yes, but he hasn't given an interview since the night of the fundraiser, except when you got hurt. And whatever he's doing with Dr. Manhattan has him, like, sequestered or something. He's rarely seen, unless you're with him. So, it's got the press buzzing."

"Why would Rorschach care?"

"Well. He's extreme, right? When I was doing research on him, his name came up in that super right-winged newspaper, the Frontiersman. Some of the stuff he's written is…" Alexi licks her lips and leans in. "He doesn't seem to be very… open minded. One of the things he's written about, railed about, is homosexuality." She gazes into Meg's eyes earnestly.

Meg shakes her head. "I'm confused. What does me allegedly being with Adrian have anything to do with Rorschach being homophobic?"

"Well. You… you know how you look. How you dress. Kind of, well. Not masculine, but enough that it takes a minute for people to realize that you're a woman and not a teenage boy?"

"Yeah?"

"Some of the tabloids are suggesting that Adrian's only with you because you look so much like a boy. That he's using you to soften the public up. They get used to seeing him with a boyish woman, so later, when he gets involved with a man, it won't be such a shock."

Okay, that's embarrassing. It's one thing to possibly be a… a beard, she thinks it's called. But to be one in order to soften up the public is… embarrassing.

"I still don't see why Rorschach would come after me. Maybe Adrian, but me?"

"Well. Along with everything is speculation on your sexuality. And suggestions that you might… role play or whatever. Or even that you're willing to be in a fake relationship because you are, well. You know." She's blushing now.

Meg feels like she's on fire. "They write this kind of stuff?"

"Well. That they mostly joke about on late night talk shows and stuff. You know."

"Well, it's not true. And Rorschach has better things to do than watch that kind of trash." She rubs at her face, trying to make the heat go away. It's not working. "What do you want me to say to him?"

Alexi sighs. Shrugs and sits back. "Tell him… Tell him I just want this over with. And I'll do whatever he wants to stop this psycho."

"You sure?"

"Yeah." She sighs. Pokes at her plate with a fork, then shakes her head. "I need to get back to work."

"Want a ride?"

"No. I'll walk." Alexi gets up and leans over, kissing Meg on the cheek. "Sorry about embarrassing you."

"It's okay. You… you don't believe that stuff, do you?"

Alexi tilts her head, thinking. "No. I don't know what's going on between you and Adrian, but I don't think he's using you like that. I think he would have told you if he was." She smiles. "Don't worry about it."

"I'll try not to. I'll call you tomorrow, let you know what's going on."

"Thanks. Bye."

Meg watches Alexi go. Sees how she holds herself tightly, kind of cringing away from people—men—who get too near. Meg had been like that in the weeks following her attack. Even after she realized that Rorschach was shadowing her at night, ensuring she'd get home safely. She wishes there was some way to make Alexi feel safer now, but she knows that the only thing that will do it is time.

Meg sighs and orders another sandwich, this one wrapped up to go. She pays for the meals, then goes outside.

"Hey," she says when she approaches Rorschach. She hands him the box. "I got you lunch. I hope you don't mind."

He looks at the box before taking it. He adjusts his sign on his shoulder. "Thanks. Saw you with friend."

"Yeah, she's fine, by the way. Shaken, but fine."

His mouth quirks at the corner. Even his eyes seem to almost smile.

"She got a flyer today about her car. From an auto mechanic." Meg hands him the flyer. "I thought it seemed kind of suspicious, considering what happened to her car."

Rorschach studies the flyer a moment. "I'll pay a visit. See what they're hiding." He looks up at her and tilts his head, questioning.

"Alexi said that she'll whatever you say. That she just wants this over." Meg steps closer. "You aren't going to let her get killed, right?"

"Will try not to." He looks her over then meets her eyes. "Your ribs?"

"They're fine. I'm fine." She yawns. "Just, you know. Tired. I should be heading home."

He nods. "Let you know what I find. Pass it on to her."

"Thanks." Meg smiles at him, then turns to go. The car's waiting at the curb, driver sitting inside.

Before she gets to it, she turns. "Um, you don't read, like tabloids or anything. Or watch late night talk shows. Right?"

He frowns. "Read liberal trash? Lies and filth?"

Relief washes through her, making her dizzy. "Yeah. I didn't think so." Mind at ease, she climbs into the car and heads home.

_Meg's Journal, August 23, 1985_

_Billy's been fed, bathed, read to and put to bed. With only minimal help from Stacy. Watched about ten minutes of entertainment news before I had to turn it off. Alexi is right; they are talking about me and Adrian. It's humiliating. I'm just going to pretend they don't exist._

_I hope Rorschach finds something about Alexi's possible stalker. It'd be nice for her not to have to be scared anymore._

The penthouse is silent at this hour. The only sound is the shuffling of paper and Meg humming under her breath. Billy was talking in his sleep earlier, but that faded as the night dragged on and now… silence. The penthouse windows block out the sound of traffic below. The moon is full and bright, lighting the room in a soft glow that's bright enough to work by. The hours slip away easily, time marked only by the adjustments Meg has to make to accommodate the pain in her side.

Even that's an easy fix. It hurts to sit or stand for too long, so she's in constant motion. She's been working for hours, first going through her client files, making notes and calls as she sits and stands and sits and stands to adjust for her side. When it got too late to make calls, she switched to sorting through the file of ideas.

"What are you doing up?"

Meg looks up to see Adrian standing in the doorway, leaning against the jamb.

"I went to my office earlier. These are all the different ideas for how to spend the money that we raised at the fundraiser. Some of them."

"Some?"

"It looks like not all the offices sent in their replies. I'm going to call them tomorrow."

He nods and walks into the room. Careful not to disturb the papers, he sits on the edge of the desk. "You're working late."

"I know." Meg slowly sinks into the chair, holding her side to steady them. "But you're one to talk."

"I'm trying to find a new source of energy. I'm trying to change the world. It's a time consuming process, Meg," he says, his voice sharp.

Stung, she pulls back and looks away. It takes a moment before she's sure her voice won't shake too horribly, she says, "I know that. I…" She doesn't know what else to say, so she lets the sentence die.

There's silence. Meg shifts in the chair. The air is oppressive, and Meg can't remember feeling this uncomfortable around Adrian before.

He finally sighs. Rolls his head, neck cracking subtly. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have spoken so harshly."

"No, you're right. What you're doing… it's difficult."

"It's still no excuse. I apologize." His voice is still cold. Distant.

She looks back at him. His back is to the window, so his face is in shadows, but even still, Meg can see the faint dark smudges under his eyes. Lines around his mouth. Tenseness in his shoulders.

"Something wrong?"

He brushes his fringe from his eyes. "We suffered a bit of a setback today. It resulted in the death of one of the scientists. I had to do a lot of paperwork and talk to people and a bunch of other bureaucratic nonsense. All that takes me away from what I truly need to be doing."

"I can see how that can be frustrating. I hate paperwork, too."

Adrian grimaces. "That's only part of it. I'm growing impatient. I want this done. Want to reach the breakthrough now. This project has stretched out for years, and while I'm normally a very patient man, even I have my limits. I'm so close. Almost there and… I'm not longer willing to wait."

She nods. "The closer you get, the more eager you become. I'm the same way. Just remember, the world's gotten alone so far without your unlimited energy source just fine. We can wait a little longer."

His look is poison. Meg wants to curl up on herself and pretend she isn't there, but it's too late. The words are out and she can't take them back.

"Have we?" Adrian asks. "When you look outside and see the crime and poverty, is that what you call fine? What happened with Billy and Sara and those hundreds of other children, is that fine? Every day, we inch closer to nuclear annihilation. Is that what you call fine?"

Meg looks down at her hands. Tugs at her fingers. "No. Of course not."

"I'm trying to avert war, Meg. It's believed that if you eliminate desire, eliminate need, you'll eliminate the need of war. Energy is a critical issue, and it's brought the two greatest nations in the world to each other's throats. I'd like to finish my project before they destroy the world."

She nods. Then, very quietly, she asks, "Do you really think the world will be… I mean. You know. Nuclear war?"

"It seem likely," he says, sighing. "I monitor the news outlets, the media, music, and even mundane things like commercials. All the signs indicate we'll be caught up in war around the beginning of November."

"Commercials can tell you that war is going to break out months from now?"

"If you know what to look for, yes. The people who make them examine their consumers, study their fears and desires, and create advertisements that appeal to the atmosphere. Violence becomes more pronounced. Encouragements for people to throw off responsibility in the face of death. Sexual undercurrents, people wanting connection as this fear grows. All of this becomes more and more pronounced the closer to war the nation comes. I've been tracking it for months now. We're getting there."

"That's terrifying."

He tilts his head in a shrug. "It's helpful. Most people will be blindsided once we're at the brink. It will seem to them to have come out of nowhere and they won't be ready. I will."

The pain in her side becomes suddenly piercing. Meg stands and leans her weight against the desk. "How do you prepare for nuclear war?"

"Investing in businesses that will be in demand. Munitions, perhaps. Baby food. Maternity goods."

"What?"

Adrian smiles. "People looking for sexual connection without responsibility often produce children. War often brings a desire for progeny. Look at the baby boom. The maternity business will boom."

"So you'll be good, financially, if you survive. What about the rest of us? The ones of us who get blindsided? What do we do?"

He slides an arm around her shoulder and gives her a gentle squeeze. "They go about their lives. Do their jobs. Raise their children. Their daily concerns are enough. The rest of us can worry about the long term."

_If they survive,_ Meg can't help but think. She can't help feeling she's being condescended to. But, then, why wouldn't she be? Adrian was the smartest man in the world and she's… not. What else can she do but live her life and leave the worrying to him?

"I guess I should sleep soundly, knowing the world is in your hands, right?"

Adrian smiles. Kisses her gently on the forehead. "You should." He kisses her again, his lips pressing into hers. "I'm looking out for all of us, Meg. And I will succeed. I am going to change the world. It's going to be much, much better."

"I can't wait to see it."

_Rorschach's Journal, August 23, 1985_

_Went by Mike's Auto Repair. Owner seems an honest man. Surprising. Went through books, though files, through notes. Seems unlikely to hunt down women and murder them in their cars._

_Not so sure about new worker. Kid, right out of high school. Owner's notes say hired out of high school through program with child services. Interesting. Will investigate._

Apartment empty when Rorschach arrives. Past midnight. Works to Rorschach's advantage.

Kid lives a few blocks from Rorschach. If possible, this apartment even worse. Smaller. Shabbier. Dirtier. Didn't think was possible.

Kid's young. Not yet eighteen. Not overly concerned with state of hygiene or state of room. Clothes strewn over floor. Bed unmade. Rat droppings and desiccated carcasses of cockroaches litter every available surface.

Rorschach crosses to sleeping area. Bed disgusting. Sheets not changed in perhaps ever. Evidence of perverted activity caked to material. Pictures paper the wall, covering smoke-stained, peeling paper. Pictures of women. The same woman, type of woman. Tall. Thin. Long blonde hair. Big dark eyes. In various states of dress and undress.

Girl's friend. Fully clothed. In under things. Through her window. On the street, walking. Going into building. Coming out of diner.

Pictures of others, but not as many. Not as focused. Girl's friend is target. If focal. Other women are practice.

Corner of a picture sticking out from underneath pillow. Rorschach pulls it out. Scratches off filth to see more clearly.

Gathering of children. Picnic. Girl's friend in forefront, arm around gawky, pimpled teenager.

The door opens. Rorschach turns and watches as the same gawky, pimpled teenager shuffles in. He's carrying a bag in one hand, a camera looped around his neck.

Without noticing Rorschach, the kid closes and locks the door. Crosses to the rickety kitchen table. Brushes aside a pile of dead roaches, he sets the bag and table on the table. From the bag he produces a dress and a silky, lacy scrap of fabric that makes Rorschach feel dirty for even seeing.

A smile crosses the kid's face. He begins shedding clothes as he crosses the room, tripping as he steps out of his shoes, drops his shirt on the ground, his trousers. His briefs are yellowed with sweat and age, baggy around his thin hips. Sliding down as he gets closer to the bed.

And then, finally, he notices Rorschach.

"Hey! Who… who are you?"

Rorschach cocks his head. Looks the kid over. "Brian Blott. You killed two women. Planning on killing a third."

"No I'm not. Uh… no I didn't."

"Alexandra. Alexis. Raped and killed them. Took their hair."

Kid snorts. "You can't prove it."

They always say that. As if Rorschach would be here if needed proof.

He crouches down and reaches under bed. As suspected, there's a box. He pulls it out and opens.

Two braided lengths of hair. Buttons, underwear. A shoe. A dress. Trophies of kills past and future.

"Proof." He stands again. Steps closer to the boy.

Kid steps back. "Look, those women were whores. I mean, come on, man. They wouldn't… I mean, I was trying to make them see…. And they wouldn't, so… But Alexi, I'm not going to kill her. I love her."

"Stealing from her. Defiling her."

"Never. Not her. When she and I make love, it's gonna be magic. All I have to do is get her to see."

"Murderer. Rapist." He continues to advance.

The kid panics. Turns and starts to run.

Rorschach catches him easily. Grabs him by head. Pushes towards table.

The boy trips over shoes. Falls into the edge. Easy to twist him just a little bit as he falls and….

CRACK

Neck broken, forehead gouged, Brian Blott falls, dead, to the floor.

Rorschach straightens. Gazes down on carcass of disgusting defiler. Easy enough to dispense this justice. Invigorating. Night is young. He leaves, eager to find other scum to deal with before morning comes.


	9. Chapter 9

_Meg's Journal, August 23, 1985_

_I woke up to a note from Rorschach saying, 'It's over.' The calls started coming in around ten. They asked Alexi to identify the body, since the person who worked this boy's case transferred out of state and Alexi had dealings with him. _

_Alexi isn't doing well. They gave her Valium at the hospital because she was hysterical. She's sleeping now, but I'm scared for her. _

"Alexi?" Meg hands a piece of toast to her. "Here, I made some tea."

Alexi stays still on the couch, staring blankly at the wall. She's dressed in her pajamas and a robe, her hair pulled into a messy pony tail. She's so, so very pale and her eyes are bloodshot with dark circles under her eyes.

Meg sits next to her. "Here. Come on, you haven't eaten or drunk anything all day." She presses a mug of tea into Alexi's hand.

She inhaled sharply. Gave Meg a watery smile and raised the mug to her lips, sipping the warm liquid.

"It's not your fault, you know," Meg whispers.

It has the opposite effect of what she wanted, and Alexi's eyes fill with tears again. Meg's ready with a tissue, handing it to her before they get too far.

"I know. I know it wasn't my fault, and I can't help feel It's not just him. It's all of it. Everything." Alexi sniffs. "God. Brian is _dead_."

"He was going to kill you."

"That doesn't make it right. I mean he was sick. Obviously, he was very, very sick. The police told me his apartment was a mess. Just and he was obsessed with me. Because I met him. I smiled at him and said some nice things." She wiped a tear away with the back of her hand. "He wasn't even mine, you know. I only knew him from a summer program I helped run. He was a sweet kid. Very quiet. He, uh, he followed me around a lot. I asked him to do little things to help me. It made him so so happy." Her face crumples and she sobs.

Meg moves closer to her and puts her arms around her. She knows that nothing she says can ever make this better, so she just holds Alexi, rocking her and making soft, soothing noises.

Gradually, Alexi's sobs stop. She grabs a tissue. Wipes her nose without lifting her head from Meg's shoulder. "Rorschach shouldn't have killed him."

"What?"

"Rorschach shouldn't have killed Brian." Alexi sits up. Wipes her nose again. "Brian was just a kid. A screwed up kid. We could have helped him."

"He'd already killed those women. He was planning on killing you."

"We could have helped him!" Alexi insists. "We have a system. He could have gone to to a hospital or something. A correctional hospital or something. Given him a chance."

Meg shrugs, feeling helpless. "But we gave him a chance. We had him in programs. He saw doctors and was given drugs. And he still went out there and killed those women. Still lived like he did. We try and we try and we try. Not just with him, but with, with, you know. All of them. The parents and the people and nothing ever works! God, Alexi, they just keep doing the same thing."

"So that makes it okay to kill them?"

"I don't know! I don't know. I just I'm sorry. But if you have to make me choose between you and a boy so sick that he thinks raping and killing someone is a good way to show love, then I'm going to choose you."

Alexi shakes her head, tears falling. "No one's asking you to choose, Meg. Not between me and Brian. But what about what's right? What about the law? What Rorschach did"

"Stopped the problem," Meg interrupts. "He stopped the problem."

"Wow." Alexi lets out a long breath. She sits back against the couch hard, shaking her head. "You're kind of messed up, aren't you Meg?"

"Gee. Thanks."

"No, I don't mean I don't mean to insult you, but I don't know. Rorschach is just so extreme. Criminals must be killed. All of them. You know that there are always extenuating circumstances. Look at Brian. He was abused as a kid. He was so screwed up, but with time and work, it might have changed."

"Might. And I'm so tired of waiting for _might_. I mean" Meg sighs and pushes her hands through her hair. "Sometimes I feel like that we're all so screwed up that that if the slate was just wiped clean, the kids would have a chance. So, yeah. I guess I screwed up, too. Because I know, legally, what Rorschach does is wrong. But I just can't condemn him." Meg shrugs and pulls her legs to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. "I'm sorry that we weren't able to save Brian. But I'm not sorry he's no longer a threat to you or anyone else."

Alexi puts down her tea and draws her legs up to her chest, resting her cheek against her knees. "There had to have been another way. There had to have been."

Meg closes her eyes. Her chest hurts and her stomach aches and she knows that Alexi is right. Knows that civilization is built on laws and rules and ways of doing things. Systems, and she's a part of that system. Brian was a part of the system, and her part of the system had failed him, but that didn't mean

But then she thinks of the dead women. Of how they were raped and how Alexi had been in danger. Of how they'd tried with Brian and there were so many Brians in the world. Meg had been lucky the night she'd been jumped; all the guy had wanted was money and to beat the shit out of someone.

Alexi could be dead right now, and she isn't because of Rorschach. And Meg can't get too worked up over it. Because Brian was helped, he'd been given help, and he had to have known

"I can't do this anymore," Alexi says, breaking into Meg's train of thought.

"Do what?" Meg sits up, opening her eyes.

There are fresh tears in Alexi's eyes. The tip of her nose is red and raw, and she just looks defeated.

"This job. I need a break. God. Never thought I'd see the day." She wipes her eyes. "When I started there was this woman in the office. Cathy. She and I were really close. Friends, partners. She was like my mentor. About a year after I started working, she left. There was this case. She was trying to get this kid out of her house and, um. The dad ended up going homicidal on the family before the paperwork got signed. So she quit. Before she left, she told me to be careful. That the job will eat you alive if you're not careful. That you had to have an outside life, take vacations, get away from it. Don't let it consume you." Alexi shakes her head. "You know, I thought I was doing an okay job. I've been dating. I belong to a book group. I go out for drinks with a neighbor every few weeks. I have you. But, um. It wasn't enough. I never really stepped away. And I can't do it anymore."

"You can't quit," Meg says, panicked.

"I'm not. Yet. I have a lot of time built up. I'll use up my vacations. My sick leave. That'll be about three months." She wipes her eyes again. Sighs. "Maybe I'll take a sabbatical, instead. I don't know. But, uh. I'm going to my mom's in Vermont. I just need to get away."

"But you'll be back?"

"I hope so. And even if I don't, I'll come back to New York." She smiles and takes Meg's hands in hers. "There's plenty of work here, after all. But, Meg, listen. Take the advice I didn't and don't let this job overwhelm you. You have Billy and Adrian in your life. Spend as much free time with them as you can. Don't take your work home with you, no matter how much you want to. "

Meg nods, feeling her own eyes well up. She doesn't know what she's going to do at work without Alexi, who's calm sense of wry humor kept her from exploding some days. "I won't."

Alexi squeezes her hands. "And, look. I know you really trust Rorschach and everything. But don't let him influence you too much, Meg. I mean let's face it, his work consumed him a long time ago. And if you let him, he'll try and drag you down with him. Not in a bad way, necessarily," she adds, even though Meg can tell from her face that Alexi isn't convinced of that assessment, "but he'll I mean, he already got you into the house where they were keeping Billy. You could have been really hurt."

"I had to go. Those kids"

"I know. But you aren't trained for that. I'm not saying you wouldn't want to do it without Rorschach. Hell, we all want to rush in and save the day. But without his encouragement, you wouldn't have gone. So, um. Just be careful around him, okay? Remember that you're living with a masked hero, too, so Rorschach doesn't have to be everything for you."

Meg gives Alexi a sad half smile. "I won't be living with him much longer. Soon as I'm better, Billy and I are going to move to that apartment I rented." For the first time, the thought of moving away from the penthouse, from Adrian, gives her a pang.

Alexi squeezes her hands. "You'll figure something out. Just, keep what I said in mind."

"I will."

_Meg's Journal, August 23, 1985_

_Funny, I've lived with the man for weeks, but calling him to say I wanted to talk to him tonight was much more nerve wracking than I'd have thought. Maybe it's because I know I'm planning on asking him for something. Maybe it's because I'm so afraid he'll say no. That's he'll laugh at me._

_I know it's partly because Sonya came over after I got home from Alexi's and, on Adrian's orders, took me to a salon to get my hair cut. And shopping for clothes. All in preparation for this gala/ball/dinner thing we're going to later this week. My hair is all different, and it's not that it doesn't look good (it better for how much it cost) but it's just not me._

_But anyway. Adrian and I are going out to dinner tonight. I called to see if he was going to be home tonight because I wanted to talk to him. He turned it into meeting him for dinner at the Plaza. Sonya turned it into an excuse to play dress up with me, and now I'm all dolled up and driving in the limo to what can now only be called a date._

_I would have much preferred to ask this while wearing jeans and eating hot dogs on the street. Oh, Adrian. Why do you make everything such a huge event?_

They put her at a corner table, quite and intimate while she waits for Adrian. She still feels like everyone's eyes are on her. Conceited, yeah, but she's wearing a skirt and shoes with low, flat heels that are very practical and still nothing like she usually wears. Her hair is cut and sprayed and has a clip in it. She's wearing lipstick and blush. She's she's a doll.

No one is looking at her. A skirt and some lipstick isn't enough to make her noticeable. She's just nervous.

"Sorry I'm late," Adrian says sliding into the seat across from her. He snaps open the napkin on the table and lowers it into his lap. "I was just on my way out of the office, when I Lee Iacocca called to try and" He trails off and blinks at her. "Wow. You look you look pretty."

Her face goes up in flames. She looks away from him and rubs the tablecloth with her fingers. "Uh thank you." She thinks about saying something about him being so surprised, but she knows he has every right. She wants to protest that she isn't, because it's a haircut and some paint, not her. But she's too embarrassed to admit that she's allowing him to dress her up, so she stays silent.

"I'm sorry," he says after a moment. "I didn't mean to embarrass you. Of course you look beautiful. I just"

"No, it's okay," she interrupts. "I know I'm not pretty. That all this makes me almost look you know." She smiles at him, meeting his eyes. "Thank you. I mean, you know I look like this because of you. You're the one who ordered all this." Meg touches her hair, almost afraid to touch it, like it doesn't even belong to her.

Adrian's still looking at her. Still and quiet, eyes practically dissecting her.

She shifts uncomfortably.

Luckily, the waiter shows up. Adrian's attention is pulled away from her as he orders the wine and food. She has no preference and is intimidated by the prices, so she's relieved when he rattles an order for her off.

When the waiter leaves, Adrian turns back to her. Rests his chin on the palm of his hand and gazes at her. "The nineteen twenties were definitely the right way to go," he says. "That's what I told Sonya to base your look off. Your figure suits that era, but you pull it off better than I imagined." A smile plays on his lips. "Perhaps I should go into fashion. Start my own line."

She copies his pose. Gazes back, smiling. "Adrian Veidt, fashion mogul. Nothing you can't do, is there?"

He grins. "Sorry. I'm not meaning to make you uncomfortable. I'm just surprised. You look lovely."

"Stop it." She sits back. "I look different. I get it. I'm already feeling self conscious as it is."

"I'm sorry. Truly I am." He sits back as well and inclines his head. "You wanted to talk."

"I did." She's interrupted by the waiter with their wine. Waits until he's gone before licking her lips. Clearing her throat. "Okay. Um. I met with Alexi today."

"Oh, that's right. Rorschach killed her stalker. How is she?"

"She's fine. How did you know about her stalker being dead?"

"I've been keeping tabs on the case. Making sure you were okay, that your friend was all right."

Meg nods. "Oh. Right. So, uh. I went to her house. And she's a mess. I mean, physically, she's fine, but emotionally, she's she's burned out. She and I were talking about the job and everything. How hard it can be." She licks her lips. "You put everything into it and your heart gets broken again and again. It hurts. And, um. You know, now I have Billy. It's hard being a parent and being alone. Living alone. So I was thinking I was wondering Well, I mean, I'd never want to impose or but I was hoping that"

"Why don't you stay with me?" Adrian asks, finally, mercifully cutting off her babbling. He takes her hand. "I've plenty of room. Plenty of help should you need assistance. And I love Billy. I want to be in his life. It really is the best solution."

She isn't surprised he knows what she was going to ask. After all, he's suggested it in the past. She's still not sure he means it, so she finds herself saying, "I know you say you're fine with it, but I'm afraid we'll be intruding, you know?"

"It's not an intrusion. I told you before I enjoy having you and Billy around. When I do get a moment, it's nice not to be alone. To know that someone will be there when I come home." He squeezes her hand, smiling wistfully. "My life has been so solitary. I was never close to my parents and after they died, no one was left. I've taught myself how to cultivate friendships, relationships, but there's been no one no one really in my life. Not like you and Billy. The two of you have brought something to it I never thought I'd have."

"We like being there. I think Billy would be devastated if we left. He loves you. And I." She licks her lips. "Yeah. I like the company, too. But I'm worried. About about what the newspapers are saying."

Adrian sighs. "I'd hoped you were ignorant of the tabloids."

"Alexi told me."

"Of course." He picks up his wine and takes a sip. "Meg, don't worry about whatever anyone is saying. They always have written about me, speculated about me. I'm used to it. I'm sorry that you're being speculated about, and I know you must find it embarrassing, but just ignore it. It means nothing."

"To you. To me, it's just" She shrugs and tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear. "It's embarrassing. I don't like people paying this much attention to me."

"They're not going to go away. As long as you and I are friends, and especially as long as you live with me, they'll be there."

She nods. Taps her fingers on the table, sucking on her bottom lip. On the one hand, she has the apartment. In a week, she and Billy can move out and leave this behind. Maybe even restrict their contact with Adrian to a few phone calls or getting together once a month.

On the other hand, Adrian was so busy, he might not be able to make time for them if they moved out. And, paparazzi or not, that idea made Meg unhappy. Adrian was her friend and with Alexi gone, she wasn't going to have many in the city. Living at Adrian's guaranteed she'd see him. And she felt safer in the penthouse. And it was better for Billy.

"Aren't you worried about your reputation?" she asks, raising her eyes to him.

"Why? Because the tabloids are speculating you're, what are they saying this week? My beard or my surrogate, rather than my mistress?"

"All of the above."

He shakes his head. "I'm not worried because I've been through it all before. The public doesn't care what the rumors are, they just want them for entertainment. As long as I dont do something horrific in their eyes, I'm fine." Adrian picks up her hands and caresses them with his thumbs. "Talk can't hurt, not in the long run. And you do learn to block it out, to ignore it. Eventually." He gives her a roguish smile.

She smiles in return. "Well. I start with my ignoring skills. But if they say anything about Billy, I can't promise I won't rip off any heads."

Adrian laughs and kisses one of her hands. "If they do, I just may join you."

Meg nods and falls silent as the waiter returns with their meal. She picks up her fork, but just uses it to push the food around. She's not hungry, both because the medication saps her appetite and because she can't stop thinking about the tabloids.

"Meg?"

"Am I your beard?" she asks, not knowing how to phrase the question more delicately. "I mean, I know you said you were gay, but"

"Actually, what I said was that I generally prefer men over women. Usually, not always."

"So, what does that mean?"

He lifts his glass of wine and gives her a smoldering look over it.

She feels warm all over. Her stomach twists slowly and skin prickles. "Uh um. What are you"

"My God, I actually piqued your interest," Adrian said, lowering his glass. Eyes gleaming, he reached across the table and picked up her hand. "Pity my work is at a critical junction and I simply have to return to the office." His lips brushed over her fingertips. "I can't take advantage of this."

Breath catching in her throat, Meg whispers, "Adrian, please."

"Please what, darling?"

"You're" She's not sure how to finish that sentence. He's embarrassing her? Confusing her? Both and more. "Don't."

He doesn't release her hand. Just strokes her fingers and down her wrist, raising goosebumps. His eyes are on her, but turned inward, thinking.

Somewhere in the room, a camera flashes. Meg has no doubt this moment will be splashed across the gossip pages the next day.

"There's something about you, Meg, that draws me. I do love you. As for the rest, well. We'll see." His eyes came back from infinity and rested warmly on hers. "I'm not trying to use you to cover up any other affair. If it ever became an issue, I'd talk to you about it. You wouldn't have to read it in the newspapers."

She swallows. Nods. "That's good to know. I like honesty."

"Yes, I'm well aware of that." He kisses her hand before releasing it. "Now, we should eat. I really do have to get back soon, and I'd rather not leave you here alone." He looked across the room where a photographer was sitting rather blatantly.

He took another picture.

"Eat up."

She nods and picks up her fork again. She still feels flush and out of breath, but she eats. And tries to figure out what Adrian is doing now.


	10. Chapter 10

_Rorschach's Journal_

**_Clipping from newspaper, crumpled and torn in half. A woman sitting in a restaurant, someone holding her hand. _**

_Meg's Journal, August 28, 1985_

_Despite the doctor's suggestions, I find myself back at work full time. It sort of crept up on me and before I realized it, I was back in the office. I started with phone calls to my clients and to other offices, getting the last of the information I needed to start setting up programs. That somehow got me back to the office every day for longer and longer hours. Then we divided up Alexi's clients and someone needed to go out to make some visits and I found myself going._

_I'm so glad that I've decided to stay with Adrian. I'm so busy with work and it's nice not to have to worry about Billy when he's done with school. It's still weird, the idea of having a nanny. But, then , it's weird having a son._

_Adrian started me on some easy exercises and stretches. He thinks if I strengthen my back and my stomach, it'll speed my recovery. I am feeling better. He says when I'm fully healed, he'll hire someone to teach me some self defense techniques. _

_I haven't seen Rorschach in awhile. He dropped by one night to leave a note about some kids in a sweatshop. I didn't wake up, and he didn't wake me. I miss him._

_Tonight's the government function. Dinner, Adrian says. With some speeches. And dancing._

_Oh joy._

The dress makes her feel exactly like a peacock. Not just because it's a dress, but because of the deep purple and green colors it's made of, the tulle skirt flowing around her legs like feathers, and the velvet shoes that make her feel almost graceful. Everyone keeps fawning over the beaded bodice which sparkle under the lights. The designer had put in Egyptian designs on it, which Meg suspects Adrian had something to do with.

They do make a pair, she has to admit that. Adrian's all smiles and poise, introducing her to senators and congressmen and important people who are so far above Meg, it makes her head spin. His suit complements hers as it was designed too, and they look like a couple. All she can do is smile and blush and try not to say anything stupid. At dinner, she's seated next to a woman whose on a committee for child welfare, which makes things really easy because they have a lot to talk about. But everything else is overwhelming.

"Are you having fun?" Adrian asks, his lips brushing over her forehead.

Dinner's over and Adrian's been mingling. Talking about his project and its importance with businessmen and the like. He's not having fun, Meg can tell. He has this look of barely suppressed boredom on his face, and his American accent is so crisp that it practically slices the air. Not that anyone seems to notice. In fact, had she not been living with him for so long, Meg probably wouldn't have noticed either.

Except right now on the dance floor. He seems happy. Well. Content. And ignoring everyone around him in favor of her.

She can't quite do the same. Everything is just too distracting.

"Meg?"

"Sorry." She makes herself look away from Dr. Manhattan, who is standing in the corner looking distant and alien. "Yes, I'm having fun."

"You look miserable."

"I look freaked out. You have to remember, this is all foreign to me. Meeting important people. Seeing Dr. Manhattan in the flesh."

"Says the only woman in the world who has ever managed to have many civil conversations with Rorschach. And who is currently living with the great Ozymandias."

She raises her eyebrow. "Great?"

Adrian smiles. Kisses her on the forehead again. "You are doing just fine, Meg. Just continue to smile and be yourself. They love you." His arms tighten around her. "I'm going to have to leave you for a bit. There's some people I have to talk to. Alone."

"I don't suppose I could take the opportunity to leave?"

"I'd rather you didn't. I won't be too long." He looks into her eyes and smiles in a way that makes it hard for her to say no.

"All right. Go mingle. I'll just go hide in the corner." She glances at Dr. Manhattan again and amends, "A different corner."

He laughs. "Good. I'll see you soon." He bends down and gives her a proper kiss on the mouth before letting her go.

Meg watches him walk away and tries not to sigh. She's tired and ready to leave, but being Adrian's friend... roommate whatever she was, it meant that she supported him. He supports her in her job. So. She can be here for him.

She goes to the bathroom to cool down and freshen up before wandering back into the room. Even though she's been able to talk to people, she really hopes no one approaches her now. She doesn't know anything and she feels stupid around these people.

She goes to the bar and orders something non-alcoholic. She's still on pain medication, not that she drinks much anyway. Still. If ever there was a time to drink, it'd be here. To relax herself. Just a bit.

"I'll have a bourbon," a man says, coming up to the bar next to Meg. He looks at her. "Woah. I bet I'd hate to see the other guy, right?"

Meg frowns. "What?"

He points at her face, her eyes and nose. "The, uh. Bruises. I bet the other guy was worse, right?"

She rolls her eyes, blushing furiously at the same time. Sonya had helped make her up so the mostly faded bruises weren't noticeable, but Meg must have washed off the make-up in the bathroom. Stupid. "Oh, um. Yeah. I got him real good," she says, feeling silly. She starts to climb off the stool in retreat when the man sticks his hand out.

"I'm Eddie Blake."

Damn. So close. "Meg Walker. Nice to meet you."

"Walker, huh? Yeah, I've heard of you. You're Adrian Veidt's girl, right?" He lets go of her hand and takes a drink of his bourbon.

"I, uh, guess. I mean it's not really like that. We're friends."

"You're living with him, though. Isn't there a kid in that, too or something?"

She looks him over, trying to get a feel for the man. He's huge and looks really strong. Grey hair shot through with white and a grizzled mustache. Muscles evident under his tux. Jagged scar running down the side of his face. All in all, there's something very rugged about him. Out-doorsy. "You don't seem like the type to read the gossip columns, Mr. Blake."

"Call me Eddie. And I try to keep up with all my old friends, even if I do have to resort to the news." He took another drink, finishing it off, and then gestured for another. "So. What's it like living with him?"

"You know Adrian?"

"Yeah. Him and me used to be real close." He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a cigar. "You don't mind, do you?"

Meg shakes her head. "Um, well. It's interesting living with him. I never had a roommate before, and Adrian's different to say the least. He's not around a whole lot. Usually it's just me, Billy, and the nanny."

"Not around?"

"Well he's working on this energy project." She waves her hand, indicating the room. It's not solely focused on Adrian and Dr. Manhattan's project, but a lot of people are talking about it. "It keeps him away, either at his office or in Antarctica. And, when he is home, he's usually still working. He tries, though, for Billy. "

"Billy's the kid?"

She can't help the smirk. "Yeah."

"So, were the newspapers right when they said you actually rescued that kid from a porno ring?" He leaned in towards her, smelling of alcohol and smoke.

"Not really. I was there. But someone else did the I don't want to talk about it." She picks up her glass and takes a long drink.

Eddie clears his throat and sits back. "Still. Real good thing you did. "

"Thanks." She licks her lips, about to make her excuses when Eddie says, "Adrian talk about this project much at home?"

"I guess. Sometimes." She smiles suddenly. "He gets all excited about it. About the possibility of free energy. Unlimited energy. He wants to change the world."

"Sounds like old Ozzy. Has he ever said exactly how he's planning on doing this?"

"Just that it has something to do with Dr. Manhattan. And if he has ever said anything more specific, I'm sure it went right over my head."

"Yeah, well I guess you're short enough."

Meg laughs. "That's true. But, seriously, we dont really talk much about his work. You'd have to ask Adrian if you want to know more."

"More about what?" Adrian asks, coming up besides Meg. He puts his arm around her shoulders, eyes fastened on Eddie in a hard, penetrating stare she's not sure she's ever seen on him before. "Hello Eddie."

Eddie grins, taking the cigar from his mouth. He taps into a nearby ashtray. "Well if it's not the great and powerful Ozymandias. How've you been lately, Ozzy?"

Adrian gives him an entirely wooden smile in return. His arm tightens around Meg. "Fine. I see you've met my Meg."

"Yeah. Her and me were just getting to know each other. Real nice girl you have here." He meets Meg's eyes and smiles, less of the shark's grin he gave Adrian and more genuine. Not much more, though. "It was nice meetin' you, Miss Walker."

"You too."

"See ya around, Adrian."

"I'm sure I will." He stays very still, fingers digging into Meg's arm until Eddie is swallowed by the crowd. Then he lets out a breath, fingers loosening. "You need to go."

"What?"

He lifts her off the stool and sets her gently on the floor. "I have things I need to do, and I'd feel safer if you were at home. I'm sorry to rush you off."

"Are you staying?"

"For a bit, then I need to go to the office. I may even fly to Antarctica, I'm not sure." He's leading her quickly through the crowd towards coat check.

"Adrian, what is going on? You're scaring me."

They're in a hallway now, not many people around. She tugs him to a halt, looking up at him. She wasn't lying when she said he was scaring her. His sudden urgency is worrying.

Adrian closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. When he opens them again, he looks calmer. "It's nothing. Eddie Blake makes me nervous."

"Why?"

"Well, for one, the government asked him to look into my research. Behind my back so I wouldn't have time to feed them a line or whatever it is they're afraid of. The fact that he went to you as a source of information unsettles me."

"He what?" Then she shakes her head. She understood what Adrian said, and she gets what was going on. It made more sense now, Eddie coming up the way he did and talking to her out of the blue. "Why would they do that?"

Adrian shrugs, then says, "They don't trust me. They wanted to bankroll this whole thing, but I refused. I'm funding this, which gives me full control. It makes them nervous." He takes her by the arm, more gently now, and leads her to coat check. "Don't worry about me. I'll call you before I leave for the lab."

"Okay. Keep safe."

He gets her wrap and helps her into it. "Kiss Billy for me."

"I will."

Adrian leans down and kisses her gently. "They'll get you the car," he says, nodding towards the valets gathering in front of the building. "Sleep well." He kisses her again, then turns and goes back to the main room.

The air is cooler outside than it was inside. Meg didn't realize how flushed she is until the night air hits her. She stands outside for a moment, breathing, eyes closed.

When she opens them, Rorschach is standing across the street in the shadows.

"Miss?" A valet touches her elbow, gesturing to a car.

"Um. Hang on. I need some air." She flashes him a smile, then walks away.

She doesn't cross the street right away, just walks down. On the other side, Rorschach shadows her. When they're far enough away from the lights and the people and cameras, she crosses.

"Hey," she says, feeling shy.

He nods, face down and slightly away, like he can't look at her.

"I reported that sweatshop. The police raided this afternoon and we've got the kids."

"Good." He clears his throat. "Starting to investigate mob dealing. Drugs. Weapons. Probably will take awhile. Won't have time for kids."

Her stomach sinks. "Oh. Right. Well. I'll keep my eyes out for kids, of course." She tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Billy and I are going to stay at Adrian's. So if you ever have time to come see us. To let me know how you're doing" She trails off.

Rorschach nods. Steps away from her.

Her eyes fill with tears and she hates that she's losing him again. Hates that a dress makes him run, but this is different. This one doesn't feel like a betrayal to herself, not like when she went on that date, and it's not fair. "Don't be angry at me," she says. "I just lost Alexi, I don't want to lose you, too."

He pauses. Shakes his head. "Not angry. Not losing. Still friends. Still watching out. But criminals must be caught. Must be stopped." He finally lifts his head and looks at her. "I'll be around."

"I'll look for you."

His mask swirls as he nods. Then, he turns away and disappears into the shadows.

_Rorschach's Journal, August 24, 1985_

_Worse than just mob dealings. Prostitution ring, too. Supposedly high class, although how can filth be anything but filth. Couldn't tell her; can't sully. Stay away and deal with the dregs of the earth. Try to salvage this miserable world that can't be saved. _

She doesn't know what wakes her. One moment she's asleep, the next she's staring at the darken room, hyperaware.

There's a sound coming from the rest of the penthouse. It's barely noticeable, but she's listening for it. Straining.

Adrian's in Antarctica. Billy's supposed to be asleep. No one should be in the apartment.

Her heart started thudding. Carefully, she slides out of bed. Reaches under the bed for the baseball bat she'd brought from her apartment. She never told Adrian about it because she knows she shouldn't need it. And yet

There's a switch next to the light switch that, when pressed, alerts security. She presses it now then steps into the hall.

There's a light coming from Adrian's office. Silently, Meg creeps down the hall, bat in hand, ready to swing. When she reaches the office, she waits for a moment, listening.

There's definitely someone in there, moving around. Papers are being shuffled, and the computer is humming. It hasn't been on since Adrian left.

She peeks in. Sees that the man is facing away.

Okay. She can do this.

Meg lifts the bat to her chest. Tightens her hands. Takes a deep breath. Moves

The bat cracks across the back of his head. The man stumbles forward. Turns and grabs the bat. As he yanks it from her, he backhands her across the face with his free hand.

The world explodes in reds and oranges as it tumbles around her.

"Fuck," she hears.

The bat clatters to the flood. The man crouches in front of her, reaching.

She flinches back.

"Calm down. I ain't gonna hurt you. Here, let me see." His hands lifted her chin, surprisingly gentle.

"You're the Comedian," she says, hissing as he presses against her face.

"Yeah. You should probably get something on that. Ice or a steak or something." He wraps his hand around her upper arm and pulls her to her feet. Actually, he pulls her off the floor then has to lower her back to her feet.

These masks are so strong, she thinks as he propels her out of the office. Yeah, she's small, but all three that she's met have handled her like she's no heavier than a doll. Might make a girl get a complex.

"What are you doing here?" she asks, trying unsuccessfully to get herself free.

"None of your damn business. Sit." He practically throws her into a chair. Goes to the freezer and digs around.

"I called security. They'll be here, soon. I doubt they'll care you're a mask when they take you into custody."

He snorts. "I cut the phone and intercom lines before I got here, kid. You think I'm stupid?" He throws the ice pack at her. "Got any pain killers?"

"Above the sink." She puts the ice pack to her face. "Adrian doesn't keep any of his research here."

"Don't know what you're talking about," he says gruffly.

"Please. Adrian said that the government hired you look into his research. That's why you were questioning me the other night about it. Trying to see what I knew. Now you're here."

"Don't know who you think I am, but you've got me confused with"

"Do you think I'm stupid? You're Eddie Blake, I met you just the other day. You're big like Blake, got grey hair. Same mustache, same build. It's not hard to put two and two together." She shrugs and adds, "Plus, you have the same scar."

His hand goes up to his cheek and he touches, cursing.

"Adrian doesn't keep his research here."

"You said he worked outta here."

"Yeah, Veidt Industry stuff. If you want to steal his ideas for the next cologne campaign or toy line or whatever, it might be there. But not his energy project. I'm afraid you came for nothing."

He leans against the sink, arms crossing over his chest. Out of the tuxedo and in his Comedian costume, his bulk is even more obvious.

She tries not to be intimidated.

"You're a cheeky little thing, ain't you?"

"Despite your reputation, I don't think you're going to hurt me anymore. You know Adrian would come after you if you did. And that's not what you want right now. Right?"

"Yeah, well. Beating up some little girl in her pajamas ain't something I need to be doing. I am going to finish checking around Ozzy's office." He pushes away from the sink. Comes close and puts his face in hers. "However. You break another bat over my head, I'll break yours. Got it?"

She nods, stomach churning. She tries not to shiver or show any fear.

He grins. "Good. You stay here until I'm done." The Comedian stands and pats her on the head before leaving the room.

Meg pulls her legs to her and wishes desperately that Rorschach would drop in.

He never does.

_Rorschach's Journal, August 25, 1985_

_Made no headway in prostitution ring. Investigating makes me feel like clawing my skin from body. Clawing skin from whores' bodies and letting them bleed rather than spread their vice and disease. Bosses who run rings are even worse. Bloated on own power, they infect those below them and dragging them down to their level._

_Much simpler to stop those at the bottom. The pimps and whores and petty thieves. Easy, but doesn't stop the problem. Take out the nest and then the vermin will die_.

He walks down the street, towards Gunga Diner after spending the day following one of the men running the prostitution ring. Rorschach will pay him a visit tonight. For now, food and time to prepare.

Girl comes out of diner. She's reading a file in one hand, take-out bag slung around wrist. Half eaten burger in other. Moves easier than has recently. Less pained.

She doesn't notice him. Even when he plants himself in her path. Not until she bumps into him.

"Oh, sorry!" she says breathlessly. Lifts her eyes. When she sees him, her face breaks into a smile. "Hi!"

He doesn't return it. Nods at her face. "New."

The hand holding the burger lifts to her face. "Oh. Right. It's nothing. A misunderstanding."

Lifts his eyebrow.

"It's a long story, but the long and short of it is it's an accident. Don't worry. How's your case?"

He tightens his jaw.

"That good? Anything I can do to help?"

He shakes his head.

Girl smiles sadly. "I hope things start going your way soon."

There's an awkward moment where they just stand there. Rorschach doesn't know what to say or what to do. Girl doesn't seem to know either.

Finally, she steps back. "Well. I have work. I oh, did you want something to eat?" She tucks the file under her arm and opens the bag. There are several burgers sitting inside. "I got extra for people who might be hungry."

He hesitates, then reaches inside. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." She smiles. "I'll see you soon."

"Take care of boy."

"I will. Bye." With one final look, she steps around him and walks away.

Rorschach watches her go, then turns and walks the other way.

_Meg's Journal, August 26, 1985_

_When Adrian came home and I told him about the Comedian, he got very quiet. He asked me to repeat what happened, and picked through it. All the while, he was stiff and tense and intense. He just kissed me when I was done and told me not to worry about it._

_Somehow, his reaction scared me more than if he'd gotten visibly angry. The Comedian is a big, scary guy, but Adrian is, too, in his own way. Scarier, because he's so incredibly smart. I just hope the Comedian stays away and doesn't come back. Stops looking into Adrian's research. It's not like he's doing anything bad, anyway. Why can't people just mind their own business anyway?_


	11. Chapter 11

_Rorschach's Journal, September 15, 1985_

_Found body of young girl in alley. Tire marks across her back, scratched and bruised like been ran over by car. Bloody trail leads from street. Must have crawled off of street when no one stopped. Her murderer probably found her here. Didn't have to beat her to submission. Just pull off clothes and rape. Leave ring of bruises around neck as life choked out._

_One day the world will pay for the suffering the liberals and thieves and those who will not see have allowed to happen. One day…_

Girl dances down steps of school she walks Boy to every morning. Face is flush, eyes sparkling, smile on face. Good day.

Not anymore.

He joins falls into step next to her.

It takes a moment for her to notice him. She's humming to herself, happiness overflowing.

He clears his throat.

"Oh my God, Rorschach!" Her too-wide smile gets impossibly wider. "I'm so sorry I didn't notice you." Her hands flutter around, clearly wanting to touch and grab and hold, but knowing not to.

He steps back, just in case.

"We started Billy's adoption papers the other day. Adrian and I are getting joint custody and we've started the whole process. It should be done in a month or so and he'll be my son. Officially. I… What?"

"Come." He's halfway to reaching for her before he realizes what he's doing. Mortified, he snatches his arm back. Turns and begins walking away swiftly.

He hears her rapid footsteps as she moves to catch up with him. She glances at him, all happiness gone now. Doesn't say anything.

It's a long walk. Morning in the city rushes by them as they go, sun beating down on them. Warm day coming, already there. Going to get hotter. Crime always worse in the heat. Vermin crawled out of the shadows when night fell, active and busy, making up for inactivity of day.

They finally reach the alley. Rorschach hesitates a moment. Looks at Girl.

She looks back, face pale but set. Ready for what she'll find.

She won't be. Can't be.

It'd seemed wrong to leave the child there alone lying exposed. He'd gone to his apartment and taken a blanket he rarely used. Only on coldest nights. Didn't need it now. Would adapt when weather turned. He'd failed to protect a child so deserved to let the cold bite.

He kneels down next to the covered body. Slowly pulls the blanket away.

"No," Girl gasps. She falls to her knees, hands at mouth. Eyes wide, shocked. Trembling. "No. Sara, no."

"Found her last night."

Tears slide down her cheeks. She takes one of the child's hands. Cradles it. "I heard she ran away three weeks ago. Her social worker's been frantic. He's been doing everything he could to find her. Calling the police every day. Talking to people on the street. Putting up flyers. Just…" She sniffs. Wipes her eyes on her shirt. "She's been quiet and withdrawn since it happened. But her therapist said she's been making progress. And her grades had started going up. She'd started to participate in things a little more. And then she just… disappeared. Packed all her things in her backpack and took it to school. She asked the teacher if she could go to the bathroom and then never came back. No one saw her leave." Girl gasps softly. Bends over, curling in on herself.

He's not good at this. Human interaction. He brought her here and now she's sad. And he just stands there, looking at her. Angry at the trash who killed the child. Despairing at the world and its continuing descent into madness. Doesn't grieve. Can't. Doesn't know how.

Girl grieves, unashamed at grief. Never hides emotions. Feels everything.

Rorschach moves next to her. Kneels at her side, inches away. Hesitant, slow, reaches out and puts his hand gingerly on her upper back.

Like it's an invitation, she turns. Presses her face against his shoulder. Sobs, tears seeping through shirt, wetting it.

Seems like hours before sobs die. Then she's just sitting there, head resting on his shoulder, staring sightlessly at child.

"I'll have to contact the police," she says, voice hoarse and dull. "Get her out of here. Tell Charlie." Her voice catches.

"Will find who did this," Rorschach promises. "Will make him pay."

With her free hand, Girl takes his. Squeezes. "I know."

"Small comfort."

She gives a humorless laugh. "Yeah. I know."

_Meg's Journal, September 20, 1985_

_Sara was buried today._

"Adrian?"

Adrian turns away from the window, hands tucked into the pockets of his dressing gown. "Are you all right?"

Meg steps into the room. Shrugs. Shakes her head.

"What can I do?" He crosses the room and sits on his bed. "There's a non-profit that specializes in runaways. Or we can find a doctor who treats girls who have been horrifically sexually abused. One of those who charges an exorbitant amount who kids like Sara don't generally have access to? I can give more money to the state and ask them to earmark it for certain programs. Just tell me what you want and I'll do it."

She swallows. Takes another step closer. "May I sleep here tonight? I don't want to be alone."

A surprised look flashes over his face. He nods. Opens his arms.

She climbs onto his bed and into his embrace. "Thank you," she whispers. She pressed her face against his neck. Breathes in deeply, smelling his cologne and soap and skin. It's comforting. He's comforting, his hands smoothing over her back. His chin on head and he rocks her. Keeps her safe.

"I wish I had taken her in, too," she whispers. "I should have."

"It wouldn't have been good for either of you, Meg, and you know that. She was too damaged, and you were so busy after it happened. Where she was obviously wasn't the best, but it was better than here."

"How do you know? How can you say that."

"Meg. After you hospitalized, I wouldn't have been able to keep her. Billy is so young that he's managed to block it out. He's, well. Manageable. But Sara wouldn't have been, not with how our lives are." He raises her chin and looks into her eyes. "I know you want to save everyone. I do, too. But you have to know it's not always possible. And don't blame yourself."

She sighs. Closes her eyes and leans against him. "I know. I know that, and I still wish…"

Adrian doesn't say anything. Just strokes her back and holds her. And when the tears are gone and the heaviness of sleep is on her, he tucks her under the covers and lays besides her.

She feels his gaze on her as she slips off to sleep. She wonders what he sees.

_September 30, 1985_

_Heard screams from an alley. Young, child, girl. Man twice her age, Knot Top, had her down. Strangling as he pulled at her clothes._

_Made him suffer. Beat confession out of him. Killed Sara. Killed others. So many others. Beat him until unrecognizable, then broke neck._

_Child hysterical. Couldn't stop screaming, sobbing. Fought me and I had to knock out. Feel almost guilty._

The rap at the window wakes her. Meg opens her eyes. Billy's sleeping soundly next to her, brought by an earlier nightmare. She and Adrian tried to keep Sara's death from him, but somehow Billy found out. He's been having nightmares every since and begging to sleep with Meg.

She probably shouldn't let him, but his psychologist said it was fine and, truthfully, she needs the comfort, too.

He's still asleep, though. Not what woke her.

"Girl!"

She sits up and turns. Rorschach is on the ledge, pushing at the window. There's a child in his arms.

Meg's out of bed and at the window in a heartbeat. "What are you doing?" she whispers furiously.

He hands the girl to her awkwardly, kind of pressing her into Meg's arms as he falls through the window. "Didn't know where to take her."

Meg stumbles to the cough by the window and lays the girl down. "You should have taken her to the hospital." For a second, she's torn, unsure whether to check the child's injuries or treat for shock. She goes with the latter and grabs a blanket from the closet. "What happened?"

"Sara's avenged."

She looks at him, then back down at the child. "Oh my God." There are bruises and scratches all over her face. She's afraid to check to see if she still has her underwear or if the rapist…

"Rorschach, you should have taken her to a hospital. I'm not equipped to deal with this. How long has she been unconscious?" She gets crosses the room to the phone.

"Half an hour? Had to knock her out to keep from screaming."

Of course. Jesus, what a mess. "Rorschach, I've gotta call an ambulance. The police. You should get out of here."

He nods. Edges back to the window.

"And, Rorschach?"

He stops.

"Thank you." Her voice breaks as she says it, tears in her eyes again.

He ducks his head. Nods, then disappears into the night.

_Meg's Journal, October 1,1985_

_The girl is… well. I don't know how to say it. She'll survive. Her family was so grateful that she was found. They kept thanking me, over and over again. I tried to tell them it wasn't me, but they wouldn't listen. I told the police that one of the people I talk with, one of the homeless people, found her and brought her to me. I don't think they believed me, but they didn't push it. The girl told them about Rorschach, but when they questioned me about that, I just looked at them. And they let it go. The girl is safe, her family is happy to have her, and the police don't have to worry about her attacker. A happy ending for all._

_Well. As happy as endings get these days._

"Super trouper beams are gonna blind me, la la, la la la," Meg sings softly to herself as she scans her eyes over the paperwork in front of her. "Like I always do. Cause someone in the crowd there's ..Oh my God!" She just manages to bite back a scream, hands clamping over her mouth.

Eddie Blake sits across from her in the booth at Gunga Diner. He looks awful, like he hasn't slept for days. There are dark circles under his eyes and his skin is ashy. He smells like he's been bathing in booze, and he's carrying a half empty bottle of Scotch. He lounges in the chair, chewing on his cigar, looking at her.

"What are you doing here?" she asks, closing the file. She glances out the window, hoping that Rorschach is there.

He's not.

"So. You and Ozzy hooked up because you ran into a building full of child pornographers to save a couple kids. And then you blew up the house."

"I didn't blow up the house."

"It went up in flames."

She sighs. "Rorschach blew it up. He told me where the kids were."

He laughs, a harsh, barking sound. "Rorschach."

"Yeah."

"And why would he do that? He don't like people, and he don't like women. If he was gonna help some kids, he'd do it on his own. Wouldn't ask you for help."

"I wasn't supposed to go. He came to ask where the kids were. He knew I placed him."

"And how'd he know that?"

"We're friends."

"You're friends with Rorschach?"

"Yeah."

Eddie throws his head back and laughs, loud and long. It's almost like a real laugh this time, although there's still the biting edge to it.

Meg squirms and tries to ignore the people turning to look at him. Prays there's no photographers around because while she's not news without Adrian, she probably is if she's having lunch with another man. Even though he's not eating and wasn't invited.

"You are crazy, kid. Rorschach don't interact with people. Not women. He… he's…."

"I know. I don't know why he stuck around me. We met when he stopped someone from killing me. And he kept coming around, telling me about kids who needed off the street or criminals he stopped." Meg shrugs. "Somehow, we're friends. If he hadn't saved me, if we hadn't met, then my kid would either still be forced to do that stuff or dead."

Eddie's head tilts to one side. His lips twist. "So. You're jumped. Rorschach saves you. And because of that, you're now living with Adrian Veidt."

"Yeah, I guess."

He snorts. Lifts the Scotch and takes a long drink. "Well. Ain't life funny that way." He slides out of the booth. "If you were smart, kid, you'd take your little boy and skip tell. Don't tell Ozzy, don't tell no one."

"Why would I leave? I'm adopting a child with him. Adrian's changed my life."

"Adrian's a rat fucking bastard. You think he's so good? If you only knew the truth, little girl."

"What's the truth?"

"Oh, no. Far be it from me to spoil anyone's punch line. Even fucking Ozymandias'" He turns and walks away, leaving Meg sitting unsettled and confused.

_Rorschach's Journal. October 12, 1985_

_Dog carcass in alley this morning, tire tread on burst stomach. This city is afraid of me. I have seen its true face._


	12. Chapter 12

Meg pushes the door to Adrian's office, shivering violently. Her umbrella had been blown inside out a few blocks away and the rain was freezing. It felt like drops of ice were sliding down her skin. It was warmer inside the building, but the damage had been done.

"Meg?"

She looks up and smiles. Her cheeks immediately tingle when she sees there someone else in the office with Adrian; tingle, but her blood is too sluggish to form a blush. At least the man doesn't seem to be either a reporter (which she knew Adrian had entertained that afternoon) or a business associate; his suite is off the rack and didn't fit well, and his huge glasses overshadow his face. He looks like the kind person she deals with every day: nonthreatening.

"H-hi Adrian. "

He comes over to her and leads her to his bathroom. "Go inside and get dried off. I have some clothes you can borrow."

"Thanks." She shoots an embarrassed smile at the stranger and disappears into the bathroom.

Adrian's bathroom is almost as fancy as the one in the penthouse. Large, purple, with a huge shower and big fluffy towels. It doesn't feel like a bathroom in an office; it feels like a home.

She's in the shower when Adrian brings the clothes in.

"My friend and I are having coffee. I hope you join us," he calls over the sound of spray.

Her blood's warmed and she's able to flush now. The doors on the shower and clear and even though they're steamed over, she's sure her naked body is visible through them. She's got her back to the bathroom, so she can't see if Adrian's looking or not.

God, she hopes he isn't.

"Okay," she manages, finding her voice. "I'll be out soon."

"Take your time." And he leaves.

She rushes through the rest of her shower, waiting until her fingers turn from white to normal again. Adrian's left a pair of slacks, a dress shirt, and a sweater. He's bigger than she is, and she's going to look ridiculous, but what else could she do? She didn't keep clothes in his office; she didn't even keep clothes in her own office. If she wants to be warm until she gets home.

Dressed, warm, and completely humiliated, Meg goes back into the office. Adrian and Dan are sitting, talking, coffee on the table in front of them. There are three cups, hers made probably exactly the way she likes it thanks to Adrian.

When she walks in, Adrian gives her a warm smile.

"You look much better. Come join us. Dan Dreiberg, this is my friend, Meg Walker. "

Dan stands and holds out his hand to her. "Nice to meet you. I've seen you in the papers. You rescued two kids from a child pornography ring?"

She blushes. "It wasn't just me. I mean, I had help."

"Rorschach helped her," Adrian says. He takes Meg's hand and pulls her down next to him.

"Adrian," she says, looking at him askance.

He smiles and shakes his head. "Dan here used to be Nite Owl. The second one, of course."

"Oh. Oh, you're Daniel," she says, looking back at Dan. "Rorschach mentioned you once. He'd been hurt and came to my apartment. I asked what he usually did and he said go to you. God, it seems like I'm meeting everyone recently."

Dan looks dumbfound. "You know… Rorschach? You've… He… What?"

"For reasons known only to himself, Rorschach has attached himself to Meg," Adrian says, sliding his arm around her shoulder. "They've become quite close."

"Rorschach and a woman? The world really is ending. No offense."

She shakes her head."No, I know. He's not the most sociable person and he hates, well. Everyone. But we get along pretty well. He's brought a lot of kids who need help to my attention. It's a working relationship."

"I see. He seems to prefer those. I actually hadn't seen him in over a year before last night."

"Last night?"

Dan glances at Adrian, then back at her. "Yeah. He, uh, dropped by to let me know something. It's not important."

"Oh," she says.

"Actually," Adrian says, "you might be interested. Eddie Blake was killed last night. Rorschach investigated and found out that he was the Comedian. He thinks there's a mask killer going around."

Her mouth falls open and her heart seems to stutter in her chest. Eddie Blake was dead. Had been killed. She talked to him just a week ago or so. And now he was dead. Killed. "A mask killer? Like, someone targeting former masks?" She looks at Adrian.

He nods. Lifts his hand and runs it down her cheek. "Don't fret. One man being killed does not create a pattern. More likely, someone with a grudge killed Blake. He had a lot of enemies, after all. I'm sure Rorschach is just being paranoid. It's not that much of a stretch."

She nods numbly and moves closer to Adrian. She needs to reassure herself that he's still there. Alive and safe and strong.

Adrian kisses her on top of the head. "I didn't mean to worry you." He kisses her again.

"It's okay. I mean, I'm not too worried about you. You're able to defend yourself. I just don't know about Rorschach. He's just… I don't know."

"Trust me, Rorschach is more than able to take care of himself," Dan says. "Look how long he's been able to avoid the law. And all those people he faces down, night after night. He'll be fine."

Meg nods, seeing his point. "You're right, I shouldn't worry. What about you?"

He smiles and shakes his head. "I think Rorschach is being paranoid, personally. I'll be fine. But, if there is a mask killer, I can take care of myself. Don't worry."

"Don't worry about any of us, Meg," Adrian says. "Eddie was most likely killed because of his political connections. It's a loss, but it's not a threat to the rest of us. There's no need to concern yourself."

"Yeah, you're right. I'd just hate to lose you." She looks up at Adrian and smiles tentatively.

Adrian smiles back and pushes a wet lock of hair from her face.

Dan clears his throat suddenly. "I should get going."

Adrian rises. "Thank you for coming, Dan. It was good seeing you again."

"You, too. Let's not wait so long next time." A look crosses his face and he says, "Are you going to the funeral?"

"I plan to. He was one of ours. I take it I'll see you there?"

"Yeah, I'm going to go. Feel like I should." He glances at Meg. "It was nice meeting you, Meg."

"You, too." She smiles and watches as Dan and Adrian hug. Then Dan leaves, rubbing his hand over his hair as he goes.

"He seems… not as confident as you'd expect a former hero," Meg says after the door closes behind Dan.

"Yes, well. He was forced into retirement. And, while he was very good at being Nite Owl, I'm not sure he's really found a niche anywhere else." Adrian sits back down and pulls Meg to him. "You aren't really worried about us, are you?" he asks, face pressed to the top of her head.

She lets out a slow breath. Closes her eyes. "No. I guess not." She feels sleepy now that's she's warm. And Adrian's arms around her are comfortable. Soothing. "If you say there's no mask killer, I believe you. And even if there is, I'm sure you all can take care of yourselves." She yawns and snuggles closer.

"You done with work for the day?" Adrian asks.

"Yeah."

"Good." He kisses her head. "You sleep. I'll wrap a few things up, and we'll go home."

"Okay." She's drifting off as he moves her, laying her down. By the time he covers her with a blanket, she's fast asleep.

_Meg's Journal, October 13, 1985_

_Billy's back in his own room now. He's doing better than he was right after Sara's death. He has a new friend at school, a little girl named Amy. She seems to be helping._

_Despite Adrian's assurances, I'm still a little worried. I know they can take care of themselves. I know they can. _

_It'd be a lot easier if Rorschach would come by. I want to know he's safe._

The sound of pounding rain wakes Meg from sleep. She opens her eyes to see Rorschach climbing in, rain and wind practically pushing him inside.

She sits up, rubbing sleep from her eyes. "Hey," she says softly.

Rorschach closes the window and turns. "Hurm," he grunts. Nods.

"I'm glad you came. Adrian told me about the Comedian. Your theory about a mask killer." She clutches the blankets in her hand. "Do you really think someone is targeting masks?"

He crosses the room and sits on the bed. "Does Veidt think theory is correct?"

"He says one murder doesn't make a trend."

He grunts again. Water drips from his hat onto the bed. "Not entirely incorrect. Still. Have a feeling. Trust my instincts."

"I'm worried about you."

He shakes his head. "Don't be. Fine. Veidt more high profile target. Makes you vulnerable."

"Me? I'm nobody."

"Not anymore. Veidt made you somebody. Pushed into spotlight. If someone goes after him, they may go for you. Hurt you to get at world's smartest man."

She shivers. Hugs herself. "I didn't think of that. What about Billy?"

He cocks his head, lifting a shoulder. "Might be target. Be vigilant. Keep eye on him."

"Don't suppose you could hang out by his school and watch out," she jokes lamely, laying her head on her knees, which she'd pulled to her chest.

"Chase me away. Give me school lunch and threaten to call cops." When she looks up, he looks away. "Tried."

"Thank you," Meg says softly. "I'll ask Adrian if he can send someone, but he might not. He's convinced this is a political killing. Or the Soviets."

"America has Dr. Manhattan. Reds have been running scared since '65. They'd never dare antagonize us. Not now."

"But aren't they? I mean, they're making moves on Afghanistan. The doomsday clock got moved up. Yeah, we have Dr. Manhattan, but… I don't know. It's almost like they don't care anymore." She frowns. "On the other hand, why would the Soviets send someone to kill Blake? I mean, yeah, he was the Comedian and, yeah, he's still employed by the government. But it'd be kind of random." She lifts her head and rests her chin against her knees. "I met him. He was the one who gave me that bruise a few weeks ago. He broke in here, looking for information about what Adrian's doing. I thought he was a burglar and hit him over the head with a baseball bat. He hit me back."

"Veidt retaliate?"

She shakes her head. "No. He was upset. Got quiet when I told him, but I think he was just glad that it wasn't worse." She licks her lips. "Blake came and saw me a week ago. I was at lunch. Told me I should skip town. Run out on Adrian."

"Say why?"

"No. Just that Adrian was a bastard and I'd be better off without him."

"Two never got along. Rumor is first time they met, Comedian attacked. Beat Veidt. Things never got better. Pride, arrogance. Lost sight of important things."

"But Adrian still helps people. And the Comedian was still working for the government, for better or for worse. They didn't have to like each other." She yawns. "You don't like Adrian."

He shifts on the bed. Clenches his fists. "Veidt is a bleeding heart liberal. Pampered. Decadent. Shallow and liberal. Possibly homosexual."

"Hey, now," Meg objects. "What's his sexuality have to do with anything?"

He grunts and doesn't answer.

She rubs at her eyes. "Don't know if Adrian is all that fond of you, either. I mean, he admires you for continuing to fight. I know he appreciates what you did for Billy and Sara. And me. But sometimes, I think he doesn't like that we're friends."

"Objects to me?"

"I think he's just kind of jealous. It's stupid. I don't know." She looks up at him. "You're the same, sometimes. When I got hurt and was in the hospital. It kind of felt…"

He gets off the bed abruptly. Walks to the window.

"I'm sorry, Rorschach." She climbs out of bed. Goes to stand next to him. "I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have said that." Her hand drifts towards his. Brushes against it. "You kissed me. As a point to him."

He edges away. "Wasn't thinking clearly. Wasn't…"

"I know." She licks her lips. "Your friend Daniel came to visit Adrian today. I met him."

Rorschach says nothing, but he tilts his head towards her.

"He seems nice. He was surprised when he found out we're friends, but I'm getting used to that reaction."

He makes a sound in his throat and his shoulders shift. "Not common to have friends. People mostly corrupt. Unworthy. Women worse."

Meg snorts, but doesn't say anything. It isn't worth it.

Rorschach hears her, though. Glances at her. "Not talking about you."

"Oh, I know." She smiles, blushing. "Don't know why I've been set up as a paragon in your mind, though."

"Different."

"I don't think I am."

He doesn't say anything, just stars at her, the dots on his mask slowly swimming.

Meg breaks the contact and looks back out the window. "Be careful out there. Not just in your investigation. But the weather's turning. I worry about you, standing on the street corner in the pouring rain. You don't eat right and you expose yourself to the elements. I'd hate for you to get sick."

There's muffled sound that's almost like a laugh. "Will be careful."

She smiles. "Good." Meg yawns, tears squeezing out from her eyes as she does. "I should go back to bed."

He puts his hand on the window, preparing to go. "Stay safe." Rorschach turns. Looks at her. "Serious when I said you may be target. Watch out for yourself. And Boy."

"I will. I promise."

They stand there a moment, looking at one another. Then, almost too quick for her to react, he leans forward. Presses his masked mouth against her hair.

And then, he's disappeared into the night.

_Rorschach's Journal, October 16, 1985_

_No leads on death of Comedian. Funeral today. Am certain the murderer will attend. By now, am certain Veidt knows me without my face. Will notice my attendance, but will he say anything to others? Know former vigilantes plan to attend: Daniel, Dr. Manhattan, Veidt. Original Nite Owl probably will stay away out of misguided sense of righteous anger, as will Miss Jupiter. Comedian was one of our brothers. All who fought besides him should be there._

The penthouse is dark and silent except for the rain when she gets in. She's exhausted from her day. Her feet hurt and she's damp from the wind blowing under her umbrella. She's cold and hungry and wants nothing more than slide under the covers and sleep.

But Adrian's up. Standing by the windows, looking out, his face barely visible in the darkness.

"Adrian?" she whispers, crossing to him. She doesn't want to speak too loudly for fear of disturbing the peace in the room.

He turns slightly. "Welcome home."

"Are you all right?" She joins him at the window, looking up into his face.

Adrian looks drawn. Worn. Tired. He nods and lifts a glass of what looked like Scotch to his mouth. "I'm fine. Just… contemplative. I tend to get this way after funerals."

"I'm sorry I wasn't able to join you. We got a call…"

He waves a hand, cutting her off. "It was fine. It's not as if you knew him, not personally. Not really. You just met him twice, and no one can say the second was the most sociable visit." He takes another drink, finishing it off. "Dan and Jon were there. Military personnel. Not really anyone else." He looks down at the empty glass and says, "Well. Rorschach."

"He was there?"

"Sans mask, yes. No one knew who he was. Just another indigent man proclaiming the end of the world. In a cemetery, no less. At a funeral." Something like a smile crosses Adrian's face. "For once, I almost believed him."

"I didn't realize you and Eddie Blake were so close," Meg says a touch wryly.

Adrian rolls his eyes. "It's not him." He turns from the window. "He ignored me. And I him, out of his mask. He's so cagey about his identity, although I can't imagine why. Who is he that needs protecting?"

"It's not that. He doesn't view his mask as a mask. It's his face. What you saw today, that's his mask. His disguise."

"Of course. I should have known." He tilts his head back, leaning his head against the window. "Do you love him?"

"What?"

"Rorschach. Do you love him?"

Her face warms and Meg looks away. "I, uh. Well. Yeah, of course. He's a good friend, and after all he's done for me…"

"That's not what I'm asking, Meg." He levels his gaze at her.

Meg runs her hands through her hair. Blushes even harder. "I don't… I don't know. I mean… I'm not ever going to have anything other than what I have with him. There's no nothing. Nothing that I want from him other than for him not to go away. Not to get killed. And not to suddenly decide I'm like all the other women he hates."

"I don't think that will happen. You'd have to undergo a massive personality transformation for that."

"I guess. I hope. "

"So. Ignoring the fact there isn't a future with anything more between you and Rorschach, are you in love him?"

"What does it matter?"

He shrugs. "Curiosity."

Meg sighs. Closes her eyes and moves, blindly, until she's standing next to Adrian. The glass is cold against her back, seeping through her clothes. She can feel the heat Adrian's radiating, and she shivers at the contrast.

"When I was seven years old, my dad killed my mom. In front of me. He came home, drunk and just… out of it. He was manic depressive and got really violent and scary during his manic periods. He just went off. Freaked out and started beating her. I hid behind the sofa, but I saw it all. And then he grabbed a knife and stabbed her over and over." She lets out a shuddering breath. "When she was dead, he… he came back to himself. Started sobbing. Oh, God, I can still… hear him. He kept screaming that he was sorry and that he didn't mean it and why couldn't she just come back. Why was she being so mean? And for a moment… I felt sorry for him. I still do, deep down. There's a part of me that feels sorry for him." She wipes her eyes, shaking her head. "But he killed my mom and I want to hate him. I should hate him, but I'm not allowed to. Because I felt pity. Because… because the world isn't black and white and sometimes the people who kill your mommy are sick and you're not allowed to hate them."

Adrian puts his arm around her waist and draws her close. He kisses her on top of the head but he doesn't say anything.

After a few minutes, the knot in her throat loosens. She's able to draw air in more easily. Voice hoarse, she says, "Yes, I'm in love with Rorschach. I guess. Because I like that his world is so black and white. I want to live there, but I can't."

She doesn't notice the tears sliding down her face until Adrian wipes them away. He moves so he's standing in front of her. Takes her chin in his hand and tilts her face to him.

"I knew, of course. About the murder. Not the rest."

"I figured. Smartest man in the world."

The corner of his mouth lifts. "You may think you want a black and white world, but you really don't. You wouldn't do what you do if you did."

"I know. But there's something… I don't know. Attractive about someone who is so absolute in his convictions." She puts his hands on his hips to steady herself. "The weird thing is, there's a part of me in love with you, too, and I know you see the shades of grey."

"We're two halves of the same coin, Rorschach and I. So…" He trails off. Runs a thumb down the side of her face before bending down and kissing her.

It's not like the usual kisses he gives her, chaste and soft. This is… firmer. Open-mouthed and his tongue traces at her lower lip teasingly. When he pulls back, his eyes are dark, pupils hugely dilated.

"I didn't mean to…" His jaw tightens. He steps away, clenching his fists.

"Adrian…"

"Don't, Meg," he says, voice suddenly harsh. "You don't understand what I've… But it doesn't matter." He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. When he opens them again, he's calm. "I'll be returning to Antarctica tomorrow. Just for a few days, but Jon thinks he's finished with the machine and ready to transport it to Karnak. I'm taking my scientists down for the final phase."

She tries to smile at the news, but it won't come. For as hard as he's worked on it, now that he's almost finished, Adrian doesn't seem happy. He almost seems conflicted or… or something.

"We'll miss you, but I'm sure we'll be fine. Unless you're worried about Rorschach's mask-killer."

"Believe me, Meg, the last thing I'm worried about is Rorschach's mask-killer." He lets out a long sigh. Scrubs at his face with his hands.

She moves closer to him and slides her arms around his waist. Rests her head against his chest. "Just think. When this is all over, you'll have a cheap, renewable energy source to offer the world. You're going to save it, right?"

He sighs and holds her close. "Right. I'm going to save it."

He says the words, and Meg can't help the shiver for foreboding that goes through her.


	13. Chapter 13

_Meg's Journal, October 19, 1985_

_Dr. Manhattan has left earth. He had an interview on TV. I wasn't really watching, just had it on while doing some paperwork, when all the sudden, this reporter kept accusing Manhattan of giving people cancer. They brought on his poor girlfriend, Janey Slater. The one before Sally Jupiter. And she looked so sick, so frail._

_Poor Dr. Manhattan looked… well, I don't know. There was something on his face. Sorrow? Distress? And then, he freaked out. Transported the entire audience into the parking lot and he left. They say he's on Mars._

_That's two masks in one week. The Russians are moving in on Afghanistan. Everyone's talking about nuclear war. Adrian's in Antarctica. I want him home. I know I'm being silly, but I'm scared for both him and Rorschach. I have a number for Adrian, but I'm trying not to call it. I don't want him to think I'm a stupid, panicky little girl._

_I wish there was some way to get a hold of Rorschach. But I have to wait for him to come to me._

_Please, come Rorschach. Please._

It's well past midnight when Rorschach pushes open the never-locked window to Girl's room. Usually, at this time, she's asleep, although she almost always wakes when he arrives.

Tonight, he finds her already awake. She sits on top of her covers, a telephone on the bed. Her skin is pale, eyes bloodshot.

"Oh, thank God," she says when Rorschach climbs through the window. She slides off the bed and rushes across the room to him.

He doesn't have time to move away before her arms are around him. Her face presses against his neck, body pressed to his.

The room is suddenly too hot. She's small and soft and smells sweet. He's suddenly very aware that he hasn't bathed since last month and that she's not just Girl, but a woman. Underneath her clothes is naked skin and breasts and everything he hates.

And his body betrays him. Blood rushes through him, makes him dizzy.

Abruptly, he shoves her away. Stumbles back.

"Rorschach, I'm sorry," Girl gasps. She's fallen against the bed. Looks up with him, tears in her eyes. "I've just been so worried. Dr. Manhattan's left earth."

He clears his throat. Adjusts his cravat. To his disgust, his hands tremble. "I know. That's two."

She sniffs and wipes at her eyes. "That's what I was thinking, too. Do you think there really is mask killer? But, why kill the Comedian and just drive off Dr. Manhattan?"

"Don't know if Dr. Manhattan can be killed." He looks away from her, not wanting to see her flush cheeks or the way her sleep shirt molds to very slight curves. "Best way to get him away was to do something like this."

"I don't understand. These people really have cancer, right? And they're all connected to Dr. Manhattan."

"Miss Jupiter hasn't manifested cancer. Veidt hasn't either." His heart is pounding and palms sweating. Encased in the leather gloves, they feel clammy and disgusting. "Before Comedian died, visited a old enemy. Edward Jacobi. Moloch. Said something about a list. Jacobi and Slater on it. Not involved in anything, but part of it."

"You think it was a list of people Manhattan given cancer to?"

He forces himself to look at her. Keeps his eyes on her face. Not as plain as it used to look, somehow, even though mouth still too wide and eyes ordinary shade of brown. Something's changed about her and he doesn't know what. "Either that, or people someone wants Manhattan to think gave cancer to."

Her mouth opens as she exhales softly. One small hand runs through her messy hair, leaving cowlicks sticking up.

He wants to smooth them down. Curses himself. Vile, disgusting, treacherous thoughts. Debasing for both of them.

"That's a lot of work for what purpose? To cause a war?"

"Don't know. Will definitely encourage Russian aggression. More so than Comedian's death, I think." He shakes his head. "Question is, who gave list to media? Specifically mentioned Jacobi during interview. If had just said Slater and others with personal connections… but Jacobi very suspicious."

"With Manhattan gone, we grow closer to nuclear war with the Russians. The Comedian fought against Communism for years." Girl scoots back on bed and pulls knees to her chest. "Adrian's the next target, if there's really a mask killer. I mean, you're the most active mask, but you focus on the criminals on the street. Adrian's so high profile." She rests her chin on knees. Raises her eyes, looking at him through eyelashes.

When did they get so long?

"Smartest man on earth probably realizes that. Good fighter." He tugs at his fingers. "Perhaps you should leave. If they go through you and Boy."

She shakes her head. "I can't. Three people are out with flu, and we're already understaffed with Alexi gone. And I can't disrupt Billy's life. Not so soon after Sara. He need routine. Structure." She shrugs. "We'll be fine."

"If anything happens, you need to leave."

"You, too. Do you have anywhere to go?"

He shakes his head. "Not leaving. My city. Must protect it."

"I don't want…"

"Don't." He shakes his head. Wants to cross the room and touch her. Stop her mouth from moving. Stop her from saying anything, but can't risk it. Something very wrong tonight. Sin and degradation passed down from his mother rising to the surface, and can't risk debasing Girl. Or himself, not any further.

Rorschach goes to the window and pushes it open. "Call Veidt. Make sure he knows."

"Will you come back tomorrow?" Her voice is closer.

He glances behind him.

She's gotten off the bed. Come to him. "I worry about you. Especially now. Please."

He hesitates. Doesn't want to leave, doesn't want to come back. Wants to reach out and touch her.

Doesn't do anything. Just nods. "Will come. Don't worry."

"Be safe."

He grunts and nods again, then leaves before he does something that hurts them both.

_Meg's Journal, October21, 1985_

_Adrian came back yesterday. He told me that Manhattan's leaving has nothing to do with the Comedian. It's just a coincidence. He the list the Comedian told that Jacobi guy was probably just a list of people the government knew Manhattan gave cancer to. After all, the Comedian worked for the government; it was possible they'd tested him to see if he had cancer or something._

_I guess it makes sense._

_Rorschach seemed exhausted when he came to see me last night. He wouldn't get near me. I shouldn't have hugged him the other night, I know better. I was just so relieved to see him, I couldn't help it. I hope I didn't upset him too much. I hope I haven't ruined things._

"Adrian?" Meg calls as she rushes down the hall of the hospital.

Adrian's standing at the end, pacing. He looks tired, weary. There's blood on his clothes and his hair's a mess.

When she calls his name, he looks up. "Meg."

She throws her arms around him and holds him close. "Oh, God, I've been so worried."

"I'm fine. I'm fine," he whispers into her hair. He rocks her back and forth, hand making soothing circles over her back. "He missed me. I was fine. But Sonya…"

"How is she?" Meg pulls away and looks up at him. She can't stop shaking, and she clenches her hands in Adrian's shirt. She can feel his heart beating, smell his cologne and skin. Feel how warm he is, but there's a part of her that isn't sure he's there.

"She'll be okay. The bullet didn't hit any major artery or vein, but she did lose a lot of blood."

"How long has she been in surgery?"

"A couple hours." He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand, then pulled her close.

She presses her face against his chest. Closes her eyes and holds him. Clings to him. "Adrian, I'm scared. What's going on? Who's doing this?"

"Don't. There is no mask killer, Meg. I have enemies. I make them just doing business." He kisses her head. "Don't let Rorschach scare you with his paranoid delusions. There are attempts on my life all the time. This one just got a little too close for comfort."

"You can say that again." She tightens her hold. "Please be careful. Just… think about what Rorschach said. Be careful."

Adrian sighs. "I will. I will."

_Meg's Journal, October 22, 1985_

_The police captured Rorschach last night. Oh, God, I don't know what to do._

He sits in a room surrounded by mirrors. Two-way mirrors. People looking in at him, pretending he doesn't know they're there. Studying him, like a rat.

Won't give them anything. Just sits there. Shuts off mind, goes away.

Doesn't want to be here. Officers said his social worker is visiting. Told them didn't have one, but they didn't listen. Said he doesn't want to see one. Didn't listen.

He has no say anymore. Isn't a person to them. Just a number. Another body filling a cell.

The door opens behind him. He doesn't turn. Doesn't care. Visit a formality. First of many he'll have to endure until he's either killed or escapes.

"Thank you, Officer. I'll handle it from here."

"You can't seriously…. He's dangerous."

"He's not going to hurt me. And you're all watching if he does. Just go."

There's the sound of hesitation. Then footsteps. The door closes.

He doesn't turn. His spine has turned to steel. Palms sweat, heart pounds. Skin feels too hot, too tight.

She comes around the table, smelling like baby powder and fresh air. Her eyes are wide as she sinks into the seat across from his. There's a file folder in her hands that she sets onto the table in front of her. Nails are bitten, skin around them ragged. Dark shadows under her eyes. Looks like she hasn't slept.

"Hi, Rorschach," Girl says.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm your social worker."

"Work with kids."

She nods. "I know. I made up a file for you after…" She licks her lips. "Just in case something ever happened, I wanted to be able to… It should be me in here."

He shakes his head, but he's not saying no. Not really.

"I needed to see you," she whispers. "You look awful. Have they been mistreating you?"

He looks at her. Raises one eyebrow.

"I'll file a complaint," she says. Takes a pen from her pocket and opens her file. "They have you scheduled to meet with a psychologist tomorrow. Dr. Malcolm Long. He's supposed to be pretty good, if you give him a chance." She makes a note in the file. Looks back up at him. "I know you didn't kill that man."

"No."

"Do you have any idea who did? Who framed you?"

"Mask killer."

"Yeah, but who?"

He shakes his head. "Veidt's assassin worked for company called Pyramid Transnational. Moloch got paychecks from same company. Connection there, don't know what. But it's at the center."

"Do you want me to look into it?"

"No." He says it harshly, and she flinches. "Don't put yourself in danger."

"Okay." She swallows. "Should I tell your friend? You're, um. Old partner?"

"No point. Doesn't seem interested that masks are being picked off." He tugs at the handcuffs, testing his range of movement. "Has new roommate. Laurie Jupiter."

Her lips curl. "Are you gossiping?"

"Saw them together. Thought maybe she ran Manhattan off, but seems too farfetched. All part of a broader conspiracy." He presses his hands against the table. Bad impulses flashing through him again. Wants to touch her. Feel her skin. Hold her close like Veidt does.

Prison safest place now. Let himself close to a woman, and the monster comes out. Reveals the dark, disgusting part of him he'd managed to submerge for years. This was good. Separation.

"Leave," he says, voice suddenly hoarse.

"What?" Blinks at him, mouth falling open.

Heat rises to his face. He averts his eyes. "Leave city. Take boy. Just go. Forget."

"Forget, what? You?"

He doesn't speak. Nods.

"Rorschach…"

"No. Not safe here. Nothing safe. Best to go."

"Nowhere is safe with the world at the brink of war. I'm not leaving. Not you, not Adrian." She shakes her head. Slides her hand across the table and touches his with the tips of her fingers. "I'm not giving up on you. Cooperate with Dr. Long, and maybe you can be moved to a psychiatric hospital. Moved away from general population. And I can visit you."

He closes his eyes. Shakes his head.

"Rorschach," she whispers. She sounds close to tears. "Rorschach, I can't leave you. I love you."

The world stops around them. The words echo in the air. Her fingers press against his, bare skin touching.

He opens his eyes. Looks at her. Can't say anything.

Behind him, a door opens.

"Miss Walker? There's a detective here that wants to see you. Your time is up."

Her eyes, filled with tears, don't move from Rorschach's. "Give me a moment. Please."

A pause. The door closes.

"I probably won't be able to visit you again. I'm going to be in a lot of trouble for this. Don't worry, though, I'll be fine. " She sniffs and licks her lips, drawing his eyes to them. "Try to stay safe in prison. You put a lot of people in there. They'll be out for blood."

"Can take care of myself."

Her mouth quirks at the corner. "I know." She stands. Doesn't pick up her hand, just lets it cover Rorschach's as she rounds the table. She stops next to him. Looks down. "I meant what I said. I love you."

He allows the tiniest nod of his head. A shudder goes through his body. He tilts his head back, eyes meeting hers. His heart pounds too hard, and his head spins.

And then, there's the briefest press of her mouth on his. Sweet. Tender. Nothing like the filth and horror and disgust he sees. This is like fresh air. Pure.

Her hand touches his cheek.

And then she's gone.

* * *

Detective Steve Fine is tall with broad shoulders and a fierce, tired kind of face. He looks like he's seen too much and has been worn down by it all. Looks almost like he doesn't want to be here at all, like he's over it all. Like this is routine.

"You smoke?" he asks, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and holding it to her.

"No. What can I do for you?" she asks, folding her hands on the table. The wood is slightly splintered and it digs into her skin. She concentrates on the slight pain.

He lights a cigarette and inhales deeply. Then he reaches across the table for the file on Rorschach she'd brought with her. "How long have you known Walter Kovacs is Rorschach?"

She thinks about lying, but it's useless. He has in the information in front of her. She shrugs and says, "July."

"How'd you find out?"

"Um. I had a case at his apartment building. We were removing his landlady's children and he came out of his apartment. Lives right across from her. I just knew him from the streets, didn't know he was Rorschach. But then a few weeks later, I tried to give him some money and he said something. I realized he was Rorschach."

"So you knew Rorschach."

"He saved my life. Someone was beating me in an alleyway and he stopped them. After that, he started bringing kids who needed help to my attention. We have a working relationship, you can say."

Detective Fine smiled sardonically and flicked some ash onto the table. "That's what you call a working relationship? You sure you're a social worker?"

Her face flames. "He's my friend. He was there for me when I hurt. He helped rescue my son. I care for him, and I'm pretty sure I'm not ever going to see him again. Excuse me for being a little… sentimental."

"Okay, spare me the speeches. You mentioned going to a friend of his. What friend?"

She says nothing, just stares at him blankly, borrowing a page from Rorschach's book.

"This another mask?"

"Retired. By choice."

"Uh-huh. This friend wouldn't be a man by the name of Daniel Dreiberg, would it?"

Meg can't stop from stiffening and curses herself silently. She doesn't answer and hopes he didn't notice.

He's a detective though. "Daniel Dreiberg attended the attended the funeral of Edward Blake. Blake was a homicide victim, a friend of your lover, Adrian Veidt."

"He's not my," she starts to contradict, but then lets it drop. "What's your point?"

"Just that Blake was kind of a big guy. Obviously worked out. Seems like he might have been a mask or something. And Dreiburg knew him. Thought he might have a connection to your squidgy friend in there."

"I have no idea. I'm sorry I can't help you."

"I bet you are." He flicks more ash off the end of the cigarette, then took another puff. "Why did you never go to the police with Kovacs's identity?"

"He saved my life. He's saved Billy's life, and he took care of the people who hurt him. I owed him a few."

"He blew up private property. He murdered those people."

"They deserved to die. They forced a six year old _boy_…" Her voice broke. Turning her head, she pressed her lips together and struggled to hold back tears.

There was silence. "Vigilantism is illegal."

"I wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for him. Forgive me for not seeing what's so wrong about what he does."

"The man is insane. He's just about as bad as the people who commit the goddamn crimes in the first place." He leans forward, snuffing his cigarette out on the table. "Look. Basically, I can arrest you right now for obstruction of justice, aiding, abetting a criminal, and falsifying legal documents. I could probably get you on other stuff. But. We have Rorschach in custody now, and, let's face it, with Veidt's money backing you, the chances of getting those charges to stick are slim."

Meg clears her throat, face flushing. It makes her so uncomfortable to remember that, to the public, she's 'Adrian's girl'. Not only to the public; to Adrian. She has no doubt that if she is arrested, he'll get her out.

Before getting involved with Rorschach, Meg had been a very law abiding person. She still is, in most ways. She just happens to also think that Rorschach was doing some good.

So, she takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. "Don't let… I mean, if you think I should be arrested…"

"Oh, stop it. I'm not looking for a martyr. You aren't the first girl to fall for a mask, even one as disgusting as him. Despite your rotten taste, I don't think you're dangerous or criminal. Just… misguided." He stands, pushing back his chair. "I'm keeping an eye on you, so don't leave the state or anything. And I reported you to your supervisor. Don't visit Kovacs again."

Meg nods, heart pounding. She looks up at him, her eyes wide.

"All right, you can go."

She stares at him a moment, unsure if she's really being let off. He stares at her, then gestures to the door.

"Go!"

She doesn't need to be told again. She's out of the chair and out the door, feet pounding on the tile. She runs out of the prison and into the crowded afternoon. It takes skill to run through New York pedestrian traffic, but she's somehow able to do it. She dodges and darts out of the way of people, pushing through them without bothering to apologize.

By the time she reaches her office, her face is bright red and she's sweating. Her clothing sticks to her and she can't catch her breath.

"For Christ's sake," Shawn says when he sees her. "Sit." He grabs her by the arm and pushes her into a nearby chair. "Christina? Can you get some water?"

Black spots begin flying at Meg's face. She can't speak.

"Here."

A paper cup full of water is pushed into her hand. She gulps it at, the cool liquid washing through the parched sticky desert of her mouth. Two more cups and she feels almost normal.

"Shawn?" she pants, looking up at him.

He pulls a chair and sits down across from her. "So, here's the deal, kiddo. You're on suspension until the disciplinary panel can review your case."

"And Billy?"

He shakes his head. "Billy stays with you right now. I'd talk to Adrian, though. See about transferring the paperwork just to his name or something. At least until this whole thing blows over."

She nods. She's exhausted, suddenly, and her body is screaming from running so far. All she wants to do is crawl into bed and sleep forever. This is suddenly a nightmare.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, tears filling her eyes. She's not, though, not really. She's sorry she got caught, but she'd do it again in a heartbeat.

"I know," and it almost sounds like he really does know. He pats her on the shoulder. Stands. "I have work to do. Someone will call later with more details."

"Okay."

She sits there a few minutes, stomach heavy and leaden. Finally, she pushes herself to her feet and leaves.

_Meg's Journal, October 26, 1985_

_I miss Rorschach so much it hurts. I'm so worried about him. I can't even visit him. God, how could I have been so stupid?_

_I feel like I've lost everything. Adrian had his lawyer resubmit the paperwork for Billy's adoption; he's the sole adopter, now. He assures me this is on paper, only, and that I'm still Billy's mom, but what does it matter? I feel so hopeless. I'm forcing myself to go through the motions, so play with Billy and read with him. To read books myself and watch soap operas and just do stuff. Fill my time._

_But, inside, I feel… empty._

"Thank you for coming to meet me, Miss Walker," Dr. Long says. He slides the sugar holder across the still sticky table of the Gunga Diner. "Did you need cream?"

Meg shakes her head as she adds the sugar to her coffee. "No, it's fine, thanks. Um. How can I help you?"

"I wanted to talk to you about Walter. See what insights you might have about him."

"How is he? Is he okay?" Meg leans forward, heart picking up speed.

"He's physically okay. But I can't quite get a grasp of him personally. I gave him a Rorschach Blot Test this afternoon and his responses were… bright. Positive. He saw butterflies and flowers."

Meg grimaces. That really didn't sound like Rorschach.

Luckily, Dr. Long seemed to agree. "I did get the feeling he wasn't being entirely honest. His records are sparse. Factual. He doesn't emote much. Hasn't shared anything voluntarily. Frankly, Miss Walker, as far as I can tell, you're the only person who can tell me anything about Walter that isn't on paper. So. What's he like?"

"That's kind of a broad question. I don't know… I mean, I guess…. He's stoic. You're right, he doesn't emote much, but I've gotten better at reading him . When he's wearing the mask, he's actually pretty expressive. With his body language, at any rate."

Dr. Long nods. "Has he ever, how can I put this? Propositioned you?"

"What? No! He'd never…. Rorschach isn't like that. He's very much against sex and everything." She's blushing and now too hot for coffee. Embarrassed, she begins to tear pieces of the napkin. "He kissed me twice. While wearing his mask. And both times were kind of on a dare."

"A dare?"

She waves her hand. "It's hard to explain. It's just, anyone who knows Rorschach is always surprised that he's my friend because he doesn't like women. And Adrian's said it's because I'm not threatening to him. I'm not sexual. Something obviously happened to him when he was young, something that shaped his feelings about sex. I don't know what. We don't talk like that."

"His landlady said he propositioned her."

"No. She's lying." Meg shakes her head. "Rorschach would never do that. Never… He hates sex. Hates the idea of it. He wouldn't."

Dr. Long writes something down, then says, "Has Walter ever told you why he became Rorschach?"

"He is Rorschach."

"No, I know, but…"

"No, you don't know. It sounds like you think his name is Walter and his superhero identity is Rorschach. Or something. But it's not. He is Rorschach. That's who he views himself as."

"Does he think he was always Rorschach?"

She sighs. "Well, no. I don't know why he began going out to fight crime, except that he has a really strong sense of right and wrong. Other than that, I mean." She shrugs. "Why do any of them do it?"

"That is a good question. But not exactly germane. I'm interested in Walter, not all of them. Is there anything you can tell me that might be helpful?"

"I don't know." She sighs. Pushes back her hair. "He's very principled. His world is black and white. Simple. He takes it personally when people go after kids. For whatever reason, he found me inoffensive and we became friends. His purpose in life is trying to stop crime, even though he doesn't think the world can be saved." She bites her lip. "When I met him, the night he saved me, he was going to leave me in the alley. Wasn't going to help me. I was surprised, because, well, he saved me. But he told me that he wasn't saving me. He was stopping the guy who was trying to kill me. That's what he does. He stops the bad people. But there aren't any good."

"What about you?" Dr. Long raises his eyebrow.

She blushes. "Maybe he thinks I'm okay. Maybe." She licks her lip. "Maybe I can sit in on one of your sessions. Maybe…"

"No. I'm sorry, but that won't be possible." He hesitates, then says, "Could I give him a message from you?"

Meg nods. "Yeah. Tell him… tell him I miss him."

"Very well, Miss Walker. I will."

* * *

There's a note from Adrian in her bedroom when she gets home. And a bathing suit.

It's embarrassing that she's lived her this long and hadn't realized there was a pool. Not that she'd been in any shape to use it before, but it seems like she should have had a little more awareness of her surroundings.

"Adrian! Catch me!" Billy shout echoes off the walls as Meg enters the indoor pool. She's just in time to see Billy running down the length of the diving board and throwing himself off the end.

There's a miniature splash as his body hits the water. A moment later, he's brought to the surface by Adrian and the floating devices on his arms. Water is streaming down his face and he's laughing and sputtering.

"That's fun!"

"I told you," Adrian says, tucking Billy at his side. He kicks, gliding them to the shallow end of the pool. "And you didn't want to try it at first."

"I didn't know. It's… Momma!"

Meg grins and slips into the water. "Hey, Billy. I saw you jump. That was amazing."

His smile splits his face. He reaches for her, bright orange floaties practically obscuring his face. "I can swim!" he tells her proudly.

Adrian lowers Billy into the water and helps him glide to Meg. She gathers Billy into her arms and kisses him on the cheek. "You are fantastic. You going to be in the Olympics when you grow up?"

"Uh-huh," he says, even though he clearly has no idea what she's talking about. "Let me go. I can stay up."

She glances at Adrian, who nods. So, she kisses Billy's wet forehead and lets him go.

He kicks and sort of bobs away from her, the floaties keeping him safe.

"I'm glad you could join us," Adrian says, gliding over to her. He kisses her on the cheek. "How did you meeting with the doctor go?"

"I don't know. He seems like a competent doctor. But I highly doubt that Rorschach's going to cooperate with him. I tried to explain him what I know, but I feel like I don't know about Rorschach at all. At least not well enough to explain to anyone."

"He is rather unknowable. Don't worry too much about him. I'm sure he'll be fine."

Meg snorts and dips underneath the water. When she comes up, it streams from her hair, into her eyes and mouth, sharp chlorine making her mouth taste bitter. "It's funny. All summer this was here and you wait until fall to bring Billy down."

A shadow crosses Adrian's face. "I know. It suddenly occurred to me that there's so much he hasn't done in his life. So much he might not get to do. If… if I don't remember… we don't remember to do them. Like swimming. Such a simple pleasure." He runs his hand through the water. "Life is fragile. So quick, and we so often take the simplest things for granted."

"Adrian." Meg swims to him and wraps her arms around his torso.

For being so strong, he really is quite slim. All compact muscles, smooth, pale skin. But strong; she can feel it better now with his shirt off, holding him so close, nearly naked. He's as strong as Rorschach, perhaps stronger. Wiry, like a jungle cat.

"I'm sorry," he whispers into her hair. "I'm being foolish."

"No more than everyone else right now. The threat of world destruction is hanging over everyone. " She presses herself into him, holding him more tightly. "What do you think the odds it's going to happen?"

"I don't want to say."

She gives a hollow laugh. "I think you just did."

_Meg's Journal, October 31, 1985_

_Adrian continues to seem depressed. Every day, he's come up with something new that he wants Billy to do. Horseback riding, Broadway. It's been kind of a whirlwind, and I don't see where he's finding the time. _

_A few months ago he told me that all the evidence points to war starting in early November. That's tomorrow. I guess it's really going to happen, if he's trying to make Billy's life full of wonderful experiences. I'd rather he'd take Billy down to Karnak, keep him safe from the bombs, but I guess Adrian has his reasons._

_The prisoner Rorschach "attacked" (and it's in quotes because I doubt it was unprovoked) is dying. If he dies, there's going to be a riot. I called Dr. Long to ask him to insist that Rorschach be moved to segregation, isolation. Even a hospital, just to get him out of there. But he didn't answer, didn't return my calls. All I can do is pray, and since I don't really believe in God, I'm not getting much comfort out of it._

"Meg."

Meg stirs in her sleep, drawn awake by gentle caresses to her cheek, a soft voice calling her name. She opens her eyes to see Adrian. "Hey. What time is it?"

"Early. I wanted to say goodbye before I left for Karnak."

She nods. Sits up and rubs her eyes. "Don't suppose you want to take Billy?"

He shakes his head, a strange smile twisting his lips. "There's no need. Don't worry." He frowns, brow wrinkling. "Meg, I know I've said… I've said a lot of things to you about how I feel for you. I just want you to know, I meant them. I… I've never truly been able to connect to anyone before. Not my parents, not my peers. Being what I am, it's been isolating." He looks up at her, into her eyes. "I feel I found a connection with you. Your presence in my life these few months…" He smiles, but again, it seems sad. "I think this has been the happiest time in my life. Thank you."

"You're welcome. I feel the same."

Adrian nods. He leans to her and kisses her. A soft press of lips against her own. When he pulls away, he swallows, mouth pressed in a tight line. "I'll be back in a few days. If the worst… there is a bomb shelter in the basement. The code is Ramses II. Everything you'd need is down there."

Meg nods, stomach twisting violently. She doesn't want to think of the worst, but she knows she can't ignore it. "Stay safe, Adrian. I love you."

He nods again. Touches her cheek, tracing her face with his knuckles. "Good-bye, Meg." And then he walks out of the room, leaving her alone.


	14. Chapter 14

_Rorschach's Journal, November 1__st__, 1985_

_Final entry? Left Veidt's office just before midnight. Dreiberg convinced Veidt' s behind everything, is serious about visiting Antarctica. Owlship capable, apparently, but are we?_

_Veidt. Cannot imagine more dangerous opponent._

_Assuming journey possible, tracking him to his lair only option. Still feel uneasy. Unfamiliar territory. He could kill us both there in the snow. _

_First night in November. I am cold tonight._

_Offices below, headstones marking daily graves of thousands. Inside, across the clock faces, as observed as those of celebrities, hands commence final laps. Oblivion gallops closer, favoring the spur, sparing the rein._

_I think we will be gone soon._

_Veidt is faster than Dreiberg. Perhaps faster than me. Return from mission seems unlikely. This last entry. Will shortly mail journal to only people can trust to get into right hands. Tell Dreiberg I need to check my maildrop. He believes me._

_If reading this now, whether I am alive or dead, you will know truth: whatever precise nature of this conspiracy, Adrian Veidt responsible. Have done best to make this legible. Believe it paints a disturbing picture. Appreciate your support and… company. Hope world survives long enough for this to reach you, but there are tanks in East Berlin, and writing is on the wall. Can only hope you took advice. Left the city. Are safe._

_For my own part, regret nothing. Have lived life free from compromise and step into the shadow now without complaint._

New York destroyed. Hong Kong. Pairs. Los Angeles. All gone, decimated by Veidt's machine. By Veidt. He pushed a button. Millions died.

Gone, as if never existed.

"On Mars you taught me the value of life. If we hope to preserve it, we must remain silent," Manhattan says.

Rorschach stands there, stunned. Stunned by the enormity of what Veidt has done, by the words he hears coming from Manhattan's mouth. As he stands there, something fights to break through his rage and anger and disbelief. Something. A face. A name.

His head snaps up, eyes narrowing in on Veidt's face. "Girl," he mutters. Then, louder, stepping closer, "_Meg._"

Veidt freezers. Face chances, losing the exhilaration at having succeeded in plan, morphing into grief.

Rorschach has to clench his fists to prevent from removing expression with fists. Wants to believe that the sorrow was for show, that Meg is safe. Protected somewhere, away from devastation.

And then Veidt speaks. "Meg was an… a necessary sacrifice."

"Sacrifice?" Daniel echoes, disbelief coloring voice.

Veidt's eyes stay on Rorschach. "I needed to have a personal stake in this. A loss, just like everyone else. I've made myself feel every death, see every innocent face. But I realized it would be so much better to have one by my side. Meg was perfect. An innocent. Someone with a career the public could support. One who'd saved a child physically. Someone nonthreatening and sweet and could endear herself to the public with a little help. I gave that help. I transformed her into something the public could love so when this tragedy occurred, they could feel my loss just as much as I felt theirs. They see me as Ozymandias. The World's smartest man. Through her and through her sacrifice, they can see me as a man."

"So all a lie. Used her for publicity. Made her into…" He doesn't finish. Can't use the word to describe her. Besides. She had thought it was real. Can't blame the naïve for others taking advantage. Won't.

"At first," Veidt says, lowering his head. "I think I overplayed it sometimes because I so desperately wanted her and everyone to believe I felt more than I did. But in the end… in the end I loved her."

"Then why not save her?" He ignores the way his voice breaks. The way pain knifes through his body.

"I couldn't. It would have been unfair to…" He shuts his eyes. Shakes his head. "If I had, she would have eventually figured it out. Figured out that I had something to do with the attack. She was quick at connecting dots, and if I had sent her from the city, I would have put her too close. I had to go through with it, regardless of how I felt. " He opens his eyes again. "I'll miss her and Billy terribly, but it's a comfort to know they died to save the world."

Rorschach is up the stairs without realizing he has moved. His fists smash into Veidt's perfect face. Slams his head into wall of stupid televisions. All he can see is red as the world is torn apart around them. All he can feel is pain in his chest, in his stomach, wanting to throw up and all he can do is hit and hit and hit.

"Rorschach." Hand on his shoulder. Daniel. Pulls him back, away.

Veidt is slumped against televisions. Blood in his hair, bruise on face. Arms still up from where he blocked Rorschach's punches. Too fast for Rorschach to get any good hits in.

He lunges, but Daniel holds him back.

And then, Veidt laughs. "How the mighty have fallen," he says, wiping away a drop of blood from his mouth. "You, like Dan, are reduced to schoolboy heroics by your lust for a woman."

He roars, leaping at Veidt. This time, Daniel can't hold him.

He slams Adrian back into wall. Holds him there.

"Come now, Rorschach," Veidt says softly. "How do you think this is going to end? Beat me all you want, it won't bring her back. Nothing can." His eyes go hard, mouth twists. "And why are you so angry, anyway? She loved you. She would have given up everything for you. I was just a friend."

His hands tighten in Veidt's shirt. "Think you've won. Think you'll get away with this. Won't. Won't be kept silent." He releases the other man. Steps away. "Keep your own secrets," he tells the other. Looks at Daniel a moment, then turns and stalks away.

He can hear Manhattan saying something behind him. Knows he only has a few moments left I he wants to succeed. Has to get to Owl Ship and take it…

Take it where? Where can he go and who can he tell?

"Rorschach." Daniel catches him at the door. "Wait."

He stops. "Never compromise. Not even in the face of Armageddon. That's always been the difference between us, Daniel." Rorschach takes one last look at his friend, then walks into the bitter cold.

His anger has drained, leaving him feeling empty. Hollow and heavy. The chill of the Antarctic snow doesn't reach him, doesn't penetrate. All he feels is that odd knifing pain through his chest. His stomach.

Gone. All gone. All the liberals and politicians and whores and criminals. All the children and schoolteachers and soft-hearted idiots.

And _her_.

Manhattan is waiting for him in the snow, blocking his path.

"Out of my way," Rorschach growls, knowing this is hopeless. "People have to be told."

"You know I cannot let you do that."

So cold. So emotionless. Inhuman.

And Rorschach is angry suddenly. Seeing those people on the street, knowing they're not there. Knowing he'll never feel her arms around him again. Knowing he'll never have a chance to… to…

"Suddenly you discover humanity," he says, voice cracking. "Convenient." And then it's too much. Doesn't know who he is. Why he's bothering.

Hands trembling, he reaches up. Takes off his hat. His face. Lets them fall to the snow. "If you'd cared from the start, none of this would have happened." His eyes are hot. Body cold. Shivering as it cold begins to bite into his skin.

Manhattan almost looks sorry. "I can change almost anything," he says. "But I cannot change human nature."

Heat spills from his eyes. Paints his face, leaving cold rivers. "Of course you must protect Veidt's new utopia. One more body amongst foundations makes little difference." And why live anyway, he doesn't say. Only good in world stolen from him by World's Smartest Man.

Manhattan says nothing. Stands there.

And Rorschach is tired. Tired of everything. No place left in the world anyway. Black and white won't fit in this peace built on lies. On death.

"Well? What are you waiting for? Do it."

"Rorschach," Manhattan says.

Don't believe in heaven. First time, Rorschach wished he did. Hell certainly real enough.

Rage consumes him. "DO IT!"

Manhattan raises his hand. A spark rushes over Rorschach's skin. His body rips apart. Her face is the last thing he sees.

_November 3, 1985_

_It is time I returned to the real world, see how it is faring. I've been monitoring the news outlets. I know heads of the countries have met to declare peace. The cities hit are still suffering without power. There is some looting, crime, which is to be expected. The police and national guard have been sent in to help alleviate the situation. There are civilians who have banded together to provide service to those who need it. As always, in the face of tragedy, the best of humanity begins to shine._

_Yes, it is time to return. To apologize for my unwitting complicity with Dr. Manhattan. To offer my help. To, eventually, win their support and help guide them into our future._

Much to his amusement, Adrian finds Veidt Industries is being used as a center for refugees. The entire first floor is taken up with registration, people signing in, lists being made to reconnect families and friends. Second floor was food and clothing that was parceled out daily. Third floor was for children and teenagers: daycare, school, entertainment, counseling. The offices on the fourth floor and up had been converted into temporary homes.

Outside is a swarm. Reporters, soldiers, police, firefighters, and an endless parade of the displaced. Those city workers that were left, along with legions of volunteers, had gotten plumbing up in most of the city. Electricity was out until the grid could be repaired. As Adrian watched, he could see groups of people coming with bags full of candles, flashlights, lanterns, and camp stoves. Outside, people lit barbeques and made fire pits, preparing a meal for hundreds.

Hundreds of people coming together, working together for the benefit of humanity. Not for reward or hope of recognition, but for community. For belonging. For it was the right thing to do.

It worked.

"Adrian?" he hears when he enters the lobby of his building.

He frowns. Turns.

"Alexi?"

The woman smiles, looking exhausted. There are dark circles under her eyes and her face is pale. She's not wearing any make-up, and her hair is pulled back into a simple ponytail.

She lets out a relieved sigh and runs across the crowded room to him. "Thank God you're alive," she says, throwing her arms around him. "No one knew where you were. If you were in town or not. Meg said you'd gone to Antarctica, but when no one heard from you…"

"Meg?" He pulls away from Alexi, holding her at arm's length.

"Yeah. She said you'd gone to Antarctica…"

"_When_?"

Alexi shrugs, eyes moving up, thinking. "Um, I guess yesterday? She got back to the city before me. I was here, I don't know. Around three in the morning?"

"Meg? My Meg. Meg Walker." He knows he's repeating himself like an idiot, but he can't help it. He can't quite process what Alexi is saying. So much for the smartest man in the world.

Her face softens. "Yes, Meg Walker. She's up on the third floor with the kids. She…. Adrian?"

But he doesn't hear. He's running for the stairs, heart pounding. Not willing to believe what he'd heard until he'd seen…

Because he'd told Rorschach the truth. In the end, he had truly felt affection toward her. Had loved her and was genuinely sorry that he'd left her to die.

But if she was alive…

Three flights of stairs are easily surmounted. He bursts into the hall. When the people working there see him, they gasp. Then get knowing smiles on their faces. Joyous smiles, happiness for others who have been reunited with their loved ones.

"She's in there," someone says.

Adrian goes where he's directed.

And she's there. Sitting on a couch, book in her lap. Billy on one side, another child on the other. Children on the floor, scattered around, listening to her read.

"And they lived happily ever after," she says with a soft smile. She closes the book and looks up.

Her eyes go wide. Mouth falls open.

Adrian's across the room, pulling her to her feet. "You're alive," he whispers, hand tracing her face. "You're alive."

"I am. You, too. You…"

He stops whatever she was going to say with his mouth. Holds her close, kissing her. Tasting her. Because he doesn't believe what his eyes are telling him. And he has to rely on his senses.

"Adrian," she gasps against his lips.

"Do you have to stay here?" he asks, hands caressing his back. "Can we… talk alone?"

"Uh-huh. I mean… Billy?"

"Yes, Momma?"

Adrian forces his attention from Meg to look at his son. Jesus Christ, this was his _son_, legally, and he hadn't even… "Billy." He leans down and kisses the little boy on the forehead. "Mind if I take your mom for a little bit? Will you be okay here?"

"I'm fine, Adrian." He stands up and kisses Adrian on the cheek. "I'm glad you're here."

"Me, too." He gives Billy one more kiss, then leads Meg away. "Where are you staying?"

"In your office. It's just been me, Billy, and Alexi up there. Until we knew where you were…"

He can't get her upstairs quickly enough. When they're finally in his office, in his private room, she turns, clearly ready to talk.

But he doesn't want to talk. He picks her up and carries her to the bed, mouth finding hers again.

She kisses him willingly enough, responding with kisses of her own. Her tongue even comes out to meet his as he explores her mouth, tasting her. Mapping her out.

She doesn't protest as he pulls up her shirt. Tosses it away and runs his hands over her skin. When he leaves her mouth to kiss and taste her skin, she moves on the bed and whispers breathlessly, "Adrian?"

"Tell me to stop," he says, his own shirt joining hers on the floor. He undoes her bra and pulls it off, then licks her nipples, sucking at them until their erect. "Tell me you don't want this, Meg, or I'm not going to stop."

"Why?" Her small hands tremble on his shoulders, but she doesn't push him away.

He props himself over her. Gazes down into her eyes and traces her face once again. "Because," he answers, finger moving over her eyebrows. Down her nose and to her mouth. "I don't trust my eyes. I need to experience you with something other than sight."

Her cheeks, already flush, get even darker. She licks her lips and then nods. "All right," she says. She runs her hands down Adrian's spine. "Just… okay."

Adrian smiles and leans down. Kisses her again, vowing that she'll never forget this night.

And, after, as they lay together, both sweaty and out of breath, he allows himself to admit to one more reason for taking her to bed: Rorschach. Rorschach may have found this girl, may have courted her in his backward way, may have won her heart, but Adrian was the one who prevailed. No, he didn't have his personal loss, but perhaps what the world needed now was a triumph. Love conquers all, it blossoms even in during a time of tragedy. Her death would have made him sympathetic. Her living would make him an inspiration.

Rorschach was gone. Adrian had peace and Rorschach's girl.

Victory was sweet.

a/n this isn't the end.


	15. Chapter 15

_Meg's Journal, November 1, 1985_

_I woke up this morning to the news that Rorschach escaped from prison. I expect the police will be by soon. I don't think they can arrest me, but they can take me in for questioning. Can't wait._

_**Same day, later**_

_  
Detective Fine took me to the station. Questioned me for over two hours until one of Adrian's lawyers came and took me away. If they're not going to charge me with anything, they can't keep me. I could see in Detective Fine's eyes that he was considering it. Thinking about charging me with one of the things he'd said before: aiding and abetting a criminal or obstruction of justice. But, in the end, he let me go._

_I'm leaving the city. I'll stay in the state, like I was told, but I'm going to visit my aunt. Take Billy and leave for a few days. I know the detective let me go because he thinks Rorschach will come to me. There's a black and white parked across the street, and I'm sure there's undercover police around that I can't. As much as I want to see Rorschach and make sure he's safe, I can't risk him getting caught. I won't be the reason he's caught. So. I'm leaving. It'll do both Billy and me good, anyway. The atmosphere in the city is oppressive. Everyone's scared, convinced that nuclear annihilation will come at any moment._

_It might be the same in the suburbs, who knows. But it won't be as in your face. I can't walk outside without seeing a newspaper or graffiti or just hear someone talking about it. It's getting so I can't breathe._

_I hope Rorschach stays safe._

_Meg's Journal, November 2, 1985_

_Dr. Manhattan has destroyed New York. New York, Pairs, LA, and Moscow. He destroyed them. Killed millions of people. Why? Why would he come back if he doesn't even care? I don't understand._

_What about Rorschach? Was he still in the city? Is he…_

_I can't think of that. About any of it. I just know I have to get back. Help. Help and hope._

She almost doesn't believe her eyes when she sees Adrian. Even though she knew he had to be alive. Unless Manhattan went to Antarctica to kill Adrian specifically, he was probably alive. But so many people were just gone without a trace and to see him there…

And then he crosses the room and pulls her to her feet. Kisses her and overwhelms her with his need. And while she would have been find with holding him for hours, she's seen enough in the last few day to know that it won't be enough for him. She's seen plenty of reunited couples all but fusing together as if they would become one. She's seen friends and acquaintances disappearing into corners on finding each other, only to come out hours later, clothes askew, faces flush.

So she's not really surprised when he rushes her upstairs and carries her to bed. Not surprised when he strips her of her shirt and kisses her all over. She's surprised at how good it feels, at how her body responds to his touch. How her mind strays to Rorschach only a few times before pleasure washes everything away.

She's surprised that she enjoys it.

After, she lays in bed next to Adrian, sweat drying on her skin, trying to catch her breath. Trying to gather her wits, make her mind focus.

She feels drowsy. Comfortable. Her eyes are heavy. She hasn't slept since she got to the city, but now, after all the stress and the worry and everything, she's feeling relaxed and comfortably drowsy.

Adrian rolls onto his side and props himself on his elbow. "Are you all right?" he asks. He traces her collarbone with his fingertips.

"Yeah. I'm okay." She smiles at him. It feels wobbly. "So. Do you trust what you see now? You believe I'm alive?"

He smiles. Leans down and kisses her. "Yes," he whispers. He presses a smaller kiss to her lips. "I just don't understand how. I thought… I was so certain I would never see you again."

Meg closes her eyes, guilt twisting her stomach. Illogical, irrational guilt that she survived when so many hadn't. A lot of them were feeling it, she knew, it was normal.

She let out a sigh. "I wasn't in town when the… the attack happened. After Rorschach escaped from prison, I thought it was best that I leave. I didn't want to get him caught." She opens her eyes and they fill with tears. "I wasn't here. I was with my aunt, and then this happened and…"

"Shhhh." Adrian gathers her into his arms. Smoothes down sweaty cowlicks and kisses her forehead. "It's okay. What was happened was a tragedy, but we survived, and that's good. The world needs survivors. And you came right back to help."

Meg nods and wipes her eyes. She knows what he's saying is right. It doesn't stop the heavy pit in her stomach, the feeling that she should be dead and is lucky... lucky and shouldn't be.

"It was awful not knowing anything," she says. "Knowing that there was an attack. That it was all over the world and so many people were dead. And then realizing that it wasn't just people. It was people I knew. Shawn and Sonya. Stacy. Billy's teachers and my kids." Her voice breaks. She has to sit up, tears flowing down her face. "I didn't know if you'd come back yet. I didn't know where Rorschach was. I couldn't even think… like, who was dead. Every time I started to think who I knew in the city, my brain would… would freeze and I couldn't think."

Adrian doesn't say anything. He sits up and takes a tissue from the box on the nightstand. Hands it to her and caresses her back soothingly.

"I haven't really slept since it happened. I just keep busy. All of us do. Every time someone comes, alive, we celebrate. Every time people are reunited, it's happy. But there are so many people who were just winked out of existence and no one knows why." She wipes her nose. Looks at Adrian. "Did he ever… did he come and visit you? Say anything? Tell you why he did this?"

He shakes his head. "No. He never said anything. I didn't realize he'd come back to earth, or however he accomplished it. I was taking a break when I saw the news."

"I'm so sorry." She reaches up and strokes his cheek.

"Why?"

"Well, he fooled all of us, but you're the one who worked closest with him. You were his friend. Maybe… I mean, I would…"

"No, I do feel betrayed," Adrian says, face clearing. He takes Meg's hand and kisses it. "I can't imagine how alone he must have felt. How detached and frustrated with the world. I thought I knew him better." He shakes his head. "But all we can do is move on. Rebuild and hope he doesn't return."

"Do you think he will?"

He shakes his head. "I think that his point is made. He took care of the threat of nuclear war. The nations heads are talking. Talking peace. I may not have been able to stop Jon from taking rage out on the world, but I can take advantage of the peace it's brought. I'll get in contact with the president. See if I can lend my assistance."

Meg reaches up and wipes a drop of sweat from Adrian's neck. "You said before you wanted to save the world. Even if you can't offer it cheap, unlimited energy, maybe you still can. By helping lead it."

Adrian smiles. "When one door closes…" He kisses her. "Will you walk through that door with me? Be by my side?"

Her stomach clenches. She's not entirely sure what he's asking. If he's asking her to marry him or just to continue on as they've been. After what they've just done, the first seems almost likely.

She can't say yes, of course. To say yes would be to admit that Rorschach is probably dead, and she _can't_.

So she doesn't say anything. Just smiles and touches his cheek.

Even without an answer, however, her fate seems sealed.

_Meg's Journal, November 5, 1985_

_The power grid's back up and we have electricity. The rubble is being cleared. Adrian is going to Washington DC. He wants me to come with him, but there's still too much to do here. It'll only be a few days._

_There's still been no sign of Rorschach. _

"You have to give him up, Meg," Alexi says as they stand outside Veidt Industries. Well. What used to be Veidt Industries, but was still refugee headquarters. She's smoking, nervously tapping the cigarette against her thigh between inhales. "You have to know he's dead."

"He might not be," Meg insist stubbornly. "Maybe he left the city. You don't know."

Alexi sighs. "Meg…"

She shakes her head and turns. "I'm not giving up hope. Rorschach is out there somewhere. Alive." She walks back to the building, ignoring Alexi trying to call her back.

She will not give up hope.

_Meg's Journal, November 18, 1985_

_Adrian's become an advisor to the President. He's met with heads of state from all the world. Not negotiating peace, but helping to decide how the world will be run in the wake of the attack._

_But every night, he comes home to me. We're back in his penthouse. The refugee camp has been moved to another building, one more suited to long term habitation. Alexi and I pretty much run it. The government put us in charge and is actually paying us a salary. Most everyone has been reunited with their families. We have a department that's arranging funeral services for those who were lost and another that deals with insurance and government assistance for survivors. The biggest service we provide is for the kids. There are so many of them. Tons of kids whose parents were in the city during the attack. Kids who were home alone when this happened and are suddenly orphaned. We're still not sure if we've found them all. Police and volunteers are going door to door in unaffected areas, looking._

_I'm not even going to write how many dead babies were found._

_Alexi thinks I'm insane to still hope Rorschach is alive. I want so badly to believe he'd left the city. But if he's alive, why hasn't he come back?_

Meg slumps into her favorite chair with a sigh, closing her eyes. It had been a long day. She was exhausted and achy from being on her feet all day. Lifting kids into her arms. Even bathing Billy and putting him to bed added to the ache. All she wanted to do was slide into bed.

If only she can get up the energy to make it there.

The door opens. Footsteps. "You awake?" Adrian asks.

"Barely." She doesn't open her eyes. "How was your trip?"

"Productive." He lifts her and sits, settling her into his lap. "There's going to be a ball in a couple weeks. A dinner with all the rules from every country coming together. To show the world that we're committed to peace, that we're moving forward. That we're working together. I want you to come."

She sighs. "Do I have to?"

"Everyone else will be bringing their spouses."

Something cool slips onto her left ring finger.

Meg opens her eyes.

It's a beautiful ring. A sapphire surrounded by diamonds set in a silver band. It sparkles when she moves her finger.

"I can't Adrian," she whispers. She turns in his lap so she can see his face. "We can't get married."

"Why not? We love each other. We live together. We have a child together? We're practically married as it is, why not make it official?"

"Because…. Because it wouldn't work. I mean. Yes, we had sex. And it was nice. But I'm never going to… I don't know. Need to do it again? It's not something I ever think about wanting to do, and you do. It wouldn't be fair."

Adrian shakes his head. "I don't need sex all that often." He strokes his thumb over her knuckles. "You said it was nice. Would you be opposed to doing it again?"

She blushes. "Well. No, I guess not. But I'm never going to initiate it."

"That's fine with me." He kisses her hand. "And if I ever try, and you'd rather not, you can say no. We could never have sex again. That doesn't change the fact I want to marry you."

"It's not fair to you."

He sighs softly. Rests his chin on the top of her head. "Well. Would you mind if I went to someone else for sex?"

"Like a hooker?"

"I don't generally need to resort to that, but I suppose yes. Just for physical release, nothing else. And not that often, either."

Meg closes her eyes and rests her head against his shoulder. "It's not just sex, Adrian. I…" She licks her lips and says, "What if Rorschach is still alive?"

She can feel Adrian stiffen. His hand stills, stops stroking her knuckles. He doesn't say anything.

"I know it's unlikely," she says, needing to fill the silence. "I know he was probably in the city when the attack happen. I know he's probably…" She can't bring herself to say it. "But I have to keep hoping. I don't know … I don't want him… I can't…"

"Shhhh," he says. He pulls her to him tighter. Rocks her back and forth. Strokes her back.

Meg buries her face in his chest and sobs. Deep, check-wracking sobs that hurt. Her whole body shakes. Her throat aches and her eyes burn and she can't stop crying.

She cries for what feels like hours. Cries until her head hurts. Until her nose is raw from wiping it and she can barely keep her eyes open. Cries until she's too tired to cry anymore, until all she can do is lay limply against Adrian.

"Do you feel better?" Adrian asks awhile after she falls silent.

"I don't know." Her voice is hoarse. "Maybe a little."

He stands, lifting her into his arms. "Let's go to bed," he says. "We can talk more tomorrow."

She nods and wraps her arms around Adrian's neck as he carries her to bed.

_Meg's Journal, December 1, 1985_

_I am now officially Mrs. Adrian Veidt. Meg Veidt. It's still weird. I don't know if I'll ever be used to it._

Their honeymoon was a tour of the cities hit by Dr. Manhattan followed by a weekend in Hawaii. Hawaii had been amazing. Meg had never been, and Adrian had made it his mission to show her everything. They'd surfed and kayaked and hiked and whale watched and scuba-ed, eaten in expensive restaurants and local hang-outs; they'd laid out under the stars and watched the sunrise. They'd jumped off the top of waterfalls and kissed underneath rainbows.

It had helped relieved some of the horror that had built during their tour. The wrecked buildings and orphaned children had almost been too much for Meg to handle at times. But there was hope on everyone's faces. People seemed so happy to see both her and Adrian. They'd wanted to hear their story: how they'd met, how Adrian had thought she was dead, how they'd been reunited. Even those who had lost loved ones had seemed to take heart in hearing it.

But it's over now. They're back home, back to their real-life. Adrian's meeting with the city leaders and Meg is back at the refugee camp. Most everyone has been relocated. It's just children now, and not as many. Kids are being adopted like mad. At first, she'd been afraid people were thinking they could replace their own lost children, but then came to realize that wasn't it. People just wanted to help, and those who had the money and the room, were helping by taking in children.

She unwraps her sandwich and looks around the park. She used to meet people here. Bring them food and talk with them. But now they were gone, and the park was different. No more homeless. No more litter or graffiti. Just children playing while their parents watched. Peaceful and perfect.

"Um. Uh… Mrs. Veidt?"

Meg looks up from her sandwich. A young man in his early twenties is standing a few feet away. His smiley faced tee shirt looks worn and is stained with ketchup. His hair is long and greasy, cheeks red. He's holding a battered book in his hands like a shield. She's never seen him before, but she's getting used to being approached by strangers.

"Yes. Call me Meg."

"I'm, uh, Seymour. I work for the New Frontiersmen." He hesitates a moment, then sits next to her on the park bench.

"Oh." The newspaper. Rorschach read it, she knows, but she's never really liked their views. "I'm not giving any interviews."

"No, I'm not here for that. I… Look, I'm not sure what this is. I mean, there's a part of me that thinks maybe… but I don't know. I just know I can't do anything about it. Don't know what to do about it. And he wanted it to go to you, anyway, so… so here." He shoves the book at her. "If you do something, I… well, I guess… I'm not much help, but it's… Fuck. I don't know. Good luck." With that, he gets off the bench and practically runs away.

Meg watches him go, confused, then looks down at the book in her hands. It looks like a journal. The years 1984-1985 is printed on cover, gold leaflet flaking off.

Curious, she opens the first page.

_Rorschach's Journal, 1984 - 1985_

"Oh my God," Meg gasps. She hurriedly flips to the back, to the last entry. Her hands shake and her eyes are tearing up. "Rorschach." She finds the last entry and reads. Then reads it again, her stomach dropping as quickly as it did when she'd leapt from the top of Kipu Falls. "'If reading this now, whether I am alive or dead, you will know the truth,'" she reads aloud, needing to hear the words as well as see them. "'Whatever precise nature of this conspiracy, Adrian… Adrian Veidt responsible.'" A tear falls onto the page. "Oh my God."

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A/N Still not done. Probably one more chapter. Thanks, everyone for the feedback!


	16. Chapter 16

She checks the address against the one she's written on a scrap of paper. Checks again, then rushes up the stairs. Bangs on the door, whispering, "Please don't be dead, please ohpleaseohpleaseohplease don't be dead. Don't have moved. Please, God, please." She bangs again.

The door opens. Laurie Jupiter stands on the other side.

Meg's legs go weak. She has to grasp the door. "You're Laurie Jupiter, right? Is Daniel Dreiberg here?"

The woman blinks at her. Narrows her eyes. "You're Adrian's wife. What do you want?" She sounds hostile. Wary.

"Please, I need to speak to Daniel. It's important."

"Did Adrian send you?"

"No, I…"

"Laurie? Whose at the door?"

Meg looks over Laurie's shoulder into the house. Daniel is walking down the front stairs. It's all Meg can do to not burst into tears right there in sheer relief. Relief and fear and frustration and… and she doesn't know what else.

"Adrian's wife is here to see us," Laurie says over her shoulder. "She won't say why."

Daniel steps just behind Laurie. He looks different than he did when they first met. Stronger. More confident. His eyes widen behind his glasses when he sees her. "Meg?"

"Can I come in?" she voice quaking.

"Yes, of course. Laurie, let her in."

The other woman steps back, but still looks like she doesn't quite trust Meg. "Come in," she says.

Meg tries to give her a watery smile, but it feel wan and wobbly. When she steps inside, her legs actually give out and she falls.

Dan catches her before she hits the floor. "Whoa, you okay?"

"I'm fine. Fine. I…" She stumbles.

"Relax," he says soothingly. "Laurie, get her something to drink. Let's sit down." He leads her into the living room and helps her sit on the couch. "You looked upset. Just breathe and try to relax."

Laurie comes in with a glass of water and hands it to Meg. She perches on the arm of the chair Dan's sitting in and puts a protective hand on his shoulder. "You didn't answer my question before. Did Adrian send you?"

Meg swallows. "No, he didn't. He doesn't know I'm here. He's out of town." Her hands are still trembling as she pulls Rorschach's journal from her purse. "I was given this," she says, looking at Dan. "Rorschach's journal. He wrote that… that Adrian was behind what was going on. He killed Eddie Blake and Moloch. And he's the one who got Manhattan to leave earth. Or something." Her throat feels like it's closing, but she pushes on. "He wrote that whatever the conspiracy, Adrian was behind it. You were his friend. What… Where is he?"

There's grief on Dan's face. Grief, exhaustion. A sort of world weariness that Meg's seen on Adrian's faces. On the faces of people who lost loved ones in the attack.

"Meg," Dan says, "it's probably best if you don't know. Just… know that I'm pretty sure that Rorschach loved you, in his way. And that." He sighs. Takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes. He doesn't look at her when he puts them back on as he says, "And that Adrian does, too."

"For Christ's sake, Dan, that bastard was going to leave her to die!" Laurie protests. "I know we agreed we weren't going to do anything, but she came to us. We owe her the truth."

"Laurie…"

"No, Dan." Laurie looks at her. There's pity on her face, but something else, too. A kind of sisterhood, woman reaching out to woman. "Rorschach's dead. He died because we agreed to keep Adrian's secret. Not because we condoned it or anything, but because we didn't want the world to fall back into nuclear war.'

Even though she already knows that Rorschach's dead, even though from the minute she read the last entry, she _knew_, her eyes still fill with tears. Her heart rips so powerfully that she can't breathe.

"I'm sorry," she hears Laurie say distantly.

She can't breathe. She can't cry. She just sits there, vision blurred by a film of tears, mind empty. Blank.

There's a hand on her shoulder. An arm around her. "He fought for you." Daniel. "When Adrian told him what he'd done, all he could think of was you. And when Adrian… Rorschach lost it. Attacked Adrian. I think he would have beat him to death, but then everything went out of him."

"Did Adrian do it?" Meg asks, voice hoarse. "Kill Rorschach?"

"Not physically. That was Dr. Manhattan." He clears his throat. "I tried to stop him, but…"

She shakes her head. A tear comes loose, splashing on Rorschach's journal. "Don't. It's not your fault." She sucks in a painful breath. "He kept saying he was going to say the world. Over and over. And the closer he came to his breakthrough, the unhappier he got. I didn't get it. God, I'm so stupid."

Dan pulls her into an embrace. "Of course you're not. Adrian played the entire world. All of us. Don't blame yourself."

Another tear falls. "I actually thought he loved me. I was just… what? It wasn't enough to kill strangers. He needed a pet to grieve over." Her heart twists again. "God, he was just going to let Billy die. After all that little boy's gone through… And Adrian thought taking him _swimming_ would be enough? God, I want to kill him!"

"Don't." Laurie comes to sit next to her. "Don't try. At this point…"

"No, I know." Meg lifts her head. Wipes her eyes, but it doesn't help. More tears come. "I can't ever see him again. He'll take one look at me at know." She runs her hands through her hair. "I have to leave."

"Meg. Think about it. This Adrian Veidt we're talking about," Dan says, clear alarm in his voice. "He's not just brilliant. He's powerful. And getting more and more power every day. You can't just leave. He'll find you."

"What does he care? I wasn't supposed to survive."

His eyes are earnest. "But you did. And he said he loved you. He told Rorschach he did. I don't think he was lying." He takes her hand and rubs his thumb over her wedding band. "I think this is genuine. I mean, yes, it's political, too. But I've known Adrian for years, and I've never see him look at anyone the way he was looking at you in the pictures of you being reunited. Or on your wedding day. He loves you."

Her jaw tightens. She shakes her head. "I don't care. I can't live him knowing what he did. I don't care why he did it. I don't care if it worked. We're at peace, great. And next year? Two years? It's not going to last and all those people will have died for nothing."

"I think Adrian has a plan to keep it from going back the way it was."

"By getting more power. I don't want him running the world." She wipes her eyes. Runs her hand over the cover of Rorschach's journal. "I have to leave tonight. He's coming back tomorrow."

"You're Adrian Veidt's wife," Laurie says. "You're a public figure. Everyone knows who you are."

"I know it won't be easy. I'll… cut my hair. Pretend I'm a man or something."

Dan snorted. "I'm sorry, Meg, but that's not going to happen. People won't believe you're a man."

"Why not? Before I met Adrian, I got mistaken for a teenage boy all the time. I'm not saying it's a permanent solution, but maybe in the short term."

He frowned, eyes flicking to Meg's chest before averting them. "I don't think it'll work now. Um… did you… I mean…"

"Oh my God," Laurie gasps suddenly. "You're pregnant."

Meg shakes her head. "No, I'm not."

"I don't know. You're breasts are pretty full for someone often mistaken for a boy. And I remember what you looked like before. You definitely developed even since the attack."

She closes her eyes, head pounding. She rubs her eyes. "I can't think about this right now. I need to go home and get Billy. And money."

"I still think it'd be better if you just stayed," Dan says. "I know what Adrian did was horrible, but it's over. Things are better right now. And you can stay with Adrian to ensure that he doesn't get too power hungry if that's what you're afraid of. Or even, I don't know. Convince him to step down."

"He won't." She wipes her eyes. "And I'm not going to change my mind. Because of him, Rorschach is dead. He… he killed Rorschach. And millions of others. I can't stay with him." She picks up Rorschach's journal and holds it against her chest.

Dan and Laurie exchange glances. Then Dan sighs. "Can we help you?"

She smiles and shakes her head. "I think it's probably better if you don't. If you don't know where I'm going, Adrian can't somehow figure it out just by talking to you."

"You sure?" Laurie asks.

"I'm sure." She rises. Her legs are steadier now. In fact, she's calmer all over, grief soothed by a sudden sense of purpose. She knows what she has to do.

_Meg's Journal, December 19, 1985_

_We only took a change of clothes and as much cash as I could find. I'll sell my ring when I need more. If it comes to that. I don't want to leave a trail. _

_We left this morning. The security guard asked where we were going, just casually. I told him Christmas shopping._

_I have no idea where we're going. We're just driving. Out of the city. Maybe the country. We'll ditch the car eventually. Take a bus or train or something. I'll cut my hair tonight. Dye it. Billy's, too. I feel bad for putting him through this, but I couldn't leave him._

_Oh. And I took a test. Laurie was right. _

_The Truth Behind November 2, 1985_

_Why did Dr. Manhattan blow up our cities after he left Earth, only to leave again? From all reports, it's clear that the doctor is no longer in our solar system. If he killed millions of people to punish us, why leave after? We still have the ability to build nuclear weapons. There are still some left in the world, even though ever nation has sworn they've dismantled them. If Dr. Manhattan didn't want us to have the capability to blow ourselves up, why not get rid of the bombs?_

_I've found psychiatric reports saying that Dr. Manhattan was retreating emotionally from the human race. Once his human tie—Miss Laurie Jupiter—left him, he became completely detached. He didn't care about us anymore. So why kill us?_

_I suspect this is all part of a larger conspiracy, orchestrated by someone else. Someone with power. Someone with vast amounts of money and even greater amounts of intellect to orchestrate a scheme of this magnitude._

_Ask yourself this: what individual has profited the most from our losses? Who has gained not only wealth but political power as well. And who is smart enough to trick Dr. Manhattan into believing he hurt those he loved and then was left with a machine that replicated Dr. Manhattan's power?_

_Whether Dr. Manhattan or another was behind the attack, the facts remain the same: the world suffered. The world came together to help one another. We can have peace. We can endure. _

_But the guilty must be punished._

_Rorschach April 14, 1986_

Meg takes the last copy off the Xerox. Carefully puts the sheaves into her messenger bag, along with envelopes and stamps. She shoulders the bag and turns to leave the store.

Time to pick up Billy. After the article gets mailed to every newspaper and political figure she can contact, it'll be time to move again.

She puts her hand on her swollen stomach. Strokes it, humming as she leaves the store. The sun is setting as she steps outside. It's warm on her face, the breeze lightly ruffling her short hair. She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly.

One more day, she thinks. One more day he hasn't found me. One more day I'm free.

She wonders how many more she'll have. She wonders how close he is to finding her. She wonders what he'll do.

Then she shrugs and puts it from her head. All she has left is forward, so Meg pushes on.

_Quis custodiet ipsos custodies._

_

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A/N And that's the end. Thanks everyone so much for your feedback and support! I hope you enjoyed it.  
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